Swayingwiththebranches
leaves rustling
tepid gusts of wind shaking water sparkles to the ground.
Insects drone
beyond the melodic chorus of birdsong
and symphonic wind chimes twinkle and crash
while cool clawed little feet skitter about my branches having a nibble on the way.
A hanging plant sways in my breath as it battles the neglect of the past ten days, brown leaves raining down upon the deck.
A massive frontal silhouette of an eagle or a heron approaches from the blinding white and black clouds, a backdrop for the beautiful green mountains cast in dark shadow and golden light.
The tiny hummingbird is stronger than the force of wind shaking the bellflowers that promise a drop of nectar.
A simple profile of the tree standing by is replaced by its quivering leaves covered in bejeweled raindrops.
Sunbeams penetrate the dark distant clouds, slanting into the mountain.
My shadow crosses the page.
There is so much beauty, and it’s the leaves making the wind blow that speaks to me as the intermittent sunshine flickers across my body and the shadow-drenched wind blows cool over my skin.
RDW 8-25-20, revised 3-14-21