Impulse
I have my routines
The tried-and-true form
That keeps me sane.
I’d call it my path to freeness.
Once grounded,
I let go
Find the spaces
Discover
A seagull swallowing a starfish
A great blue heron
High in a tree, hunched in grayness
Morphing to elegance
as the wings spread wide
A gracefully flight
To pluck a fish from the water.
Soft landings.
Nature repeats
Night brings darkness
The sun rises,
The day begins.
A shimmer of light
Rainbow in the window
The dark clouds
release droplets
Puddles form
I jump
Watch the water defy gravity.
Impulses
Routines
Space
Joy.
I’d love to hear from you on any topic. Routines, impulses, writing–I’m at http://www.abberolnick.com.
