Fay Slimm.

SMALLNESS.

 

 

Smallness.

 

Connecting with sky above and earth 
below,
eyes unfocused, I breathe in to relax
slowly 
and regard with mindfulness the life 
going
on at my feet, such smallness neatly
flowing
toward some mystical shape-shifting 
whole,
directed by inbuilt momentum all its 
own.

 

Grass blades creak, rustled leaves

moan.

Petals sigh as warm winds flutter

coats.

Toads click when heat dries their  

home.

Pollen hums as bee-tongue sucks

gold.

Worms weep when birds tighten

hold.

 

Butterflies sniff and grasshoppers

groan.

Soil heaves with action under my

nose.

Busyness rules in every miniscule

burrow.

 

I watch as snail-gait slow motion

unfolds

tiny changes within nature\'s great

poem

and marvel how littleness feeds my    

soul.