Canon to Be

Blank slates,

Open spaces,

Time reveals my dreams,

As passing clouds,

Scrolling over hilltops,

Scrub the world clean.

And tiny black birds,

Twittering in the wind,

Falling, rising, scattering,

Swarms of quarter notes,

Echoing through the trees,

Sing the sun awake.

Snow drifts,

Thought alights,

A suspended, pulsing rhythm,

Gently rolls across my heart,

I’m dancing with the Master,

Towards the center of it all.

~FS