Even Out of Sight

An early start. Sun through the trees.
Green and yellow, the color of promises.
If you are still you can hear last night’s rain
dripping off the trees.

It is still. Primitive life, Simple.
Still and yet not still. In an hour
everything will be changed.
Wildlife will begin to stir.
Insects will fill the air.
Bees will fill the flowers.
The light will grow more powerful,
losing some of its magic in the process.

You breathe in the air.
Somewhere there are lilacs,
early this year, making their presence known
even out of sight.

About this poem

About a moment in May. And about how our lives touch others even when we are not aware of it.

The picture was taken here in West Pawlet, VT.

Tom