Morning Warning

Peacock Poetry

Yesterday’s morning walk just didn’t feel the same. The conditions were practically identical – cool sunshine, birds singing etc… and yet I felt different. It felt different. I had a slightly dizzy sensation and the birds were seeming to sing in cautionary tones.


This morning as I open to

The Words

I hear Wait

I hear Pace Yourself

I hear

We are in this for the Long Run

I find myself feeling slightly annoyed by the unpoetic uttering of my winged messengers

who coo cautiously from up there

on their high horse

How on earth can such pragmatic suggestion possibly take aesthetic form?

Of course, my feathered friends have little patience

for my ego’s expectation

continuing to whistle their unhindered advice

with fearless love

as I descend the golden path

and allow it to

sink in

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