In The Moment

A Day in the Moment

In the moment we cry out in the high, clear light
Even as the worm turns to the dark in waiting.
Watch the smooth gray of beeches
On an elevated slope, looking to the east
Where dawn breaks, singing the birds
From their nests to the day and their work.
The pecker to his hole.
Staccato wave the branches
To this rude and hungry beak.
The rhythm taken by peepers and crickets
In marsh and meadow.
It sings our blood, salted host of the heart,
And drives our wings to grow for the dimming flight…
A moon we chase so futilely, her round belly
Swallowed whole by a lake,
Shining in the night.