Guidance

I listen to the wind

She places her hand on my back

I don't ask where

I simply listen 

Let myself be guided along 

median

Mornings filled with birdsongs

Finding feeders on which to perch

Sunny or overcast or rainy or foggy

they live in the same way each day

We struggle with ourselves

our world

our routine

We bristle against boredom

and yet crave stability 

Where is the median?

June First

You wake up to the same view

but the light is brighter

the air is warmer

and you wonder 

just how long it has been

since you've basked

in the warm embrace 

of the sun