Pasadena

My thoughts move
like hummingbirds;
here, there
...pausing...
before flitting away
to sip a new bit
of awareness.

Jasmine smells
along the path
vine through my mind
and take me to
my untended garden
far from here in the east.
Damp earth fills my
fingers
and bluebrries
stain my tongue.

An airplane passes above
me now
and brings me back
to the path along
the ridge.
Birds in the trees
punctuate the growing
silence
as the plane flies on
to places
I can only imagine.

My footsteps become
my guide again
and, for this moment
in the immensity of time,
I experience my body
with all of its rhythms
before slipping again
into cherished
memories
and tomorrow's
promises.

The process
of being inside
and outside in seeming
randomness
unfolds
like the umpredictable
dance of hummingbirds
looking for nectar
until I am back again
holding the woman
that I love.

Jim Morgan--May 27, 2014

For Faye