Whistle with the Birds

Soft morning pouring through the blinders
Inviting to embrace a brand new day.
After a night of questions unanswered,
The birds came again to play.

A battered body can heal,
Maybe better than a spirit would.
Each step is like climbing a hill,
A climb not meant for the fool.

The sun throws reflexes on the wall,
Teasing you to come and play too.
Smile over the pain and sorrow,
Whistle with the birds a little tune…

And the beauty of the morning
Poured slowly through my heart -
As I smelled the coffee brewing,
The last twinkle of the morning star.

picture by Michelle Vogt

Through the night

The music was playing, the rhythm made her move,

The rays of the moon hitting the bird bath,

The fire pit spitting sparks in the air,

The joy inside came out to play,

Body and soul moving in the same direction

Feeling the love and letting it out,

Love once abandoned, wondering alone,

Now enticed by the rhythm in the music

By the warmth in the body and the free mind,

And the dance took her through the night,

And night took her till the dawn,

And love kept her from loosing her sight.