Am I listening?

Things are in and around me with the sounds of their being.

Am I listening?

Do I spend the time listening to their joy and plea?

The potted hibiscus bloomed during the February arctic blast.

Was I listening to their joy preparing for the opening ceremony?

My inner chatterbox works overtime without compensation—

Busy daily chores and still on duty during the night directing

The dream world.  I toss and turn and sleepwalk. 

Seeing the colorful morning sky, I hear the old saying—

Red sky in the morning, sailor’s warning. 

Do I listen to the warnings, signs of war, and peace

Quieting down the incessant chatterbox and talking heads?

I shuffle between the plea of the distant unknown

Drum beat and the joy of being.


Year of the Rabbit