Things Poetic

 Silence silence, palpable,  physical, pushing into my every pore fine tendrils of cool air whisper around my fingers listen,  soft droplets of rain catch the window above, next to me pigeons call to each other on the roof,  chattering of squirrels on the bird feeder outside,  the disgust evident in their voices, each protecting their territory birds - tits, magpies, pigeons, doves,  starlings and crows all fight silently for the scraps but its a calm silence hardly broken by the artificial distant sounds of tractors on fields planted with beets, barley and wheat cut through but then the silence returns, only broken by the tap of the keys then that stops

 Sunshine Birds sing me out of my sleep, their calls soft at first, swirling into the swirl of craziness thats my dream dream....a swirl of colour, of movement, of faces, of places touching down where I recognise a face, a person, a place watching something happen in my minds eye interrupted by the soft call of the sparrows, chattering to each other, softly and then, louder as the swirl of colour goes  and my eyes open "what the ....." oh, its sunny,  and noisy and early Bloody summer the reflected light catches my eyes, and the walls, reflecting off the glass the artwork the soft curves of the bombshell delectable up we get in every way

 edge sitting, feet swinging in the air, look out on the vista blue mountains, red and brown rocks flies buzzing about, spiny grass beneath my legs distant birds sweep across the sky, feeling for updrafts, watching for prey silence except for the pull of the wind sitting, relaxing peace

 silence Its quiet this morning, no cars, nothing to break the stillness, the birds softly call to each other, seemingly unperturbed by the otherwise still morning Call and retort,  Call and amplify pigeons, robins, starlings, tits, rooks and insects vying for the silence to express Sitting, I experience this silence physically and emotionally and it isn't vying for space with the noise in my head where darkness swirls in a whirlpool of thought, experience, joy and pain I can feel it on my skin, this crisp quiet morning even the misty sunrise doesn't disturb it is embraces it

 Sunshine Warming the skin, fine hairs lift,  skin prickles as it warms wrapped in a warm blanket of spring sun,  suggesting more, promising the day of glow paltry clouds threatening always birds flitting about, searching for food, now sparse in the warmth circle of sun heat warmth comfort food fill sleep

Shrug That day I walked from my lovely home, along the small roads, onto the wide expanses of fields, just tilled, birds wheeling across the sky, hunting for food in between the clods of earth dipping, diving, down, deep into the soil finding insects, worms and left behind seeds crowing about their finds as I wandered along the verge, stomping down nettles and weeds, just out of control plants that the plough can't reach, and that lets walkers traipse alongside the birds, the deer and the swirling wind I look back at the crow nearest, and it looks back and shrugs nonchalant observing, considering, head turns away, and back, and lets out a 'caw' and lifts off the ground, in a hop landing a few feet further away,  and continues