It Is Beautiful

In the polytunnel.
Draped in sun, I am sitting.
Contemplating on this, sitting, listening.
Absorption happens.
Bird chatter, scent of damped soil warming.
How the sun has dressed this lawn, in beaded rainbows.
Even Dog gives in to the bliss, lolls her head on the doorframe.

Yesterday was the first frost. The first new moon in the tenth month.
I had stood indoors, where the sun streamed in, where it poured through an old glass bottle-stopper; the facets of it spread a party of light on the wall.
I knew the physics of the trick and remained in thrall.
Everything is illusion, coloured by perception.
And lit, by design or accident, by this thrall.
From us, through us: it matters not.
Absorb, and surrender to the trick. It is beautiful.


Geo. said…
Perception and posture toward existence. I truly need that reminder now. And yes, it is beautiful.
Geo. said…
p.s: Your dragon reappeared here Sunday night --see "Invalid's Workshop".
Lisa Southard said…
I found him, thank you :-)

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