Rain thrashes tattered blossoms;
sparrow says everything twice.
Water sheets in the parking lot,
lens of a windshield; gutters
rush for the river,
stuttering eagerly;
crow crawls under
a pole switchbox and glares.
Indian plum
gone, serviceberry going --
rain thrashes tattered blossoms,
sparrow says everything twice.
In response to this Morning Porch post.
4 comments:
The crow is priceless. Crows always look a little aggrieved, don't they, even on sunny days? Whenever someone perceives themselves as so stressed out that they can't possible connect with the Dharma, I suggest watching birds or small mammals. They're mostly fast-living, high-tension creatures, but they're still in touch with the eternal now.
Crows are possibly the only other species that has a sense of entitlement to rival human beings'. Other creatures may dislike the rain, but they're not affronted by it :-)
Love your suggestion! Yes, I think pace-of-life is actually (to use software jargon) orthogonal to being in the present.
Sparrows are one-note samba birds!
I like this a lot.
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