journaling to the sounds of warblers

the mornings the birds "sleep in" until after sunrise are those special days when conception begins at home, in the native surrounding trees of maple, cherry, oak, aspen, poplar, and myrtle

 the thin crease

the thin crisp changeable crease between
dawn, and sunrise delivers
a stillness, not altogether quiet--
undetected in the busy vocal world

viewing this edge of sunrise 
seals the promise of showing up, 
unguarded to this gentle music--
unparalleled to any other time-



for worship is still

for worship is still
the celebration of all things
greater than the "I"

how the world is complicated
when it charades as
containing a million eyes--

 there is just one

there is just one maple tree outside this window,
and only four cherry trees poised in a circle--
north and east of this window

there is just one beating heart 
witnessing a growing beauty,
and two hazel eyes registering--

the fine details of nature nudging itself awake

~words/photo~ kate lambeg (c) '18