A Poem For Today - Age Sixty-nine

[Ken dickinson]

Age Sixty-nine

I keep waiting without knowing 

what I'm waiting for. 

I saw the setting moon at dawn 

roll over the mountain 

and perhaps into the dragon's mouth 

until tomorrow evening,

There is this circle I walk 

that I have learned to love. 

I hope one day to be a spiral 

but to the birds I'm a circle.

A thousand Spaniards died looking 

for gold in a swamp when it was 

in the mountains in clear sight beyond.

Here, though, on local earth my heart 

is at rest as a groundling, letting 

my mind take flight as it will, 

no longer waiting for good or bad news.

Often, lately, the night is a cold maw 

and stars the scattered white teeth of the gods, 

which spare none of us. At dawn I have birds, 

clearly divine messengers that I don't understand 

yet day by day feel the grace of their intentions.

- Jim Harrison

Sent from my iPhone

[Rafael Edwards]

beautiful, dark, eerie and comforting at the same time. How can that be?

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[Monica Brocco]

i feel the paradox too. Beautiful