I watch as the half moon considers itself in this blue sky.
How the hawk hides in the crown of this great pine
Screeching until a crow dives down and reveals the hiding place.
The hawk’s mate answers, echoing from a distance
Until I see her circling the sky closer and closer.
Finding each other just as the bumblebee courts the rosemary’s lilac blossoms.
I sit here in the shadows an observer to what is.
The breeze soft and warm toned as a deer hide,
as a new season also is calling out to us.
Transmutable is all of creation,
Instructing us that to do is just to be,
Allowing acceptance as you free fall.
The red tailed hawk pushes off with wings opening wide
Announcing itself to the wind with its cry.
Such confidence can we find in ourselves.
How many times have we resisted the leaping into the air
Shrinking smaller and smaller until our lives are tiny prisons
Of comforts clung to, desperately clinging?
Rumi said, “shatter the wine glass and fall into the glassblower’s breath.”
So then can you open your empty hands
to receive the calling you’ve longed to hear.
All rights reserved, written by Lydia Nitya Griffith