Sunday, January 26, 2014

In the Morning

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

Do you know mornings that refuse
to fully release
the night’s dreams?

I do.

I’ve learned to apprentice to them,
their want for me to re-member
that I am alive in other places,

that what we most long for can find
us when we are still.

A small white feather drifted, downward,
falling in gentle swinging motions, coming
from the clear blue sky onto land
that we had stood on together, side by side,
so very long ago,

I could remember the texture of the warm
soil under my bare feet,

and the view of the side-sprawling mountains
on the salty-blue horizon that we had
walked towards with an intent to be
something else,

and I wondered

how the white dove you had gifted me
found me again.

© 2014-2018/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this World"
Published by Talking Waters Press

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  1. This is beautiful, powerful work. I have often quoted a line or two from your poetry (with attribution and link to the full poem). I appreciate "share" note.

    1. Thank you, for your thoughtful comments and your presence here. Both are greatly appreciated.