The Ancient Modern
By the Stream / Joshua Alan Sturgill
I woke right where I’d drifted off;
wind stirred, sudden, down the canyon walls
and caught up all the Autumn aspens, loose
and orange-golden from their grey-skinned arms.
I woke, and wondered at the sound, and saw
above me all the azure sky alive
with spinning dancing, giddy leaves, the gold
against the blue — arush! afloat! awaving!
In that moment, I forgot I had any other Self
but blue and light and leaves suspended in the air
One thought on “By the Stream”
This is an example of truly being able to let go of our daily routine and be free, if only for a moment.