A bevy of clouds hung framed
over the street
as I walked down the hill.
But Whyte’s "mountain presence
of everything that can be”
still floats in my horizon
as I bushwhack my way past
weeds of social shoulds
and exterior appearances
defined by others,
too enthralled by life’s wonders
that motivate a loving response and
leave me little time
for unnecessary chores.
So I practice letting go
of annoyance rendered by
what I can’t successfully effect,
to nurture the the seed of me
”to grow and spread my branches
against a future sky”.
On Jun 19, 2024 Norie clarke wrote :