
Chimes bring awareness like a meditation bell:
wake up, wake up.
Reliable hands move, point,
sooth my tedious mind,
mark my course on life's time line as firmly as a stick of charcoal.
On lonely days this grandmother wraps me in her shawl and hums.
Without man's infernal measuring device
what would we have?
Infinity.
Photo courtesy of Willow and Magpie Tales. Read more prose and poetry using this photo as a prompt here.
Click to hear me read my poem. Recording done via my digital camera video selection. This is not intended as a video. Just an audio. I aimed the camera out the window.