SUNDAY MORNING 10:10

I make my way to the balcony, one eye shun,

The other shut, squints to find solace and Sun.

Cautiously I move reaching out, grabbing only mere air,

I need not fear in my search for the Son.

I wish to remove a chill within, to warm the soul I lease.

Clumsy now I stumble down to find a seat, my chair,

One I can claim for the now be outdoors --breathe fresh air.

I sit not in thought, but listen at this moment so rare

One that wraps around me, where any noise is bare.

It is so quiet now; I feel the sunlight as it strains through the trees

My mind attempts to focus this singular moment of healing rays.

I realize too, it has limits in my time all of the days.

What is next, 11:11?

This I doubt. During this recovery I am to lift no more than ten pounds.

So, I thought to remove the unbearable weight on my shoulders.

Patriotic Hydrangea?

Living On the Diagonal