Stepping into the day, I study where
life’s power waits. Where connection reaches
out. Never underestimate soft flare
of fingertips. Experience teaches
me this. Reminds me how sun’s glistening
on grass blades welcomed Caedmon’s eyes, inspired
Haydn to see The Seasons. Listening
to great Segovia’s fingertips, fired
by Bach, glide over guitar chords through dawn
light, I recall how every small motion
is prayer. In midst of song, to reach and fawn
the dark cat’s fur confirms how emotion
opens us to energy linking earth
and stars, to each cell’s everlasting worth.
Roger Armbrust
June 4, 2013
