I cannot capture the sky,
All the variations of color,
The brushed strokes of clouds,
As the morning wakens, sailing
The birds flit from cover of grass,
Playing a game of tag, scattering,
Blending with earth and ground,
Hidden until they burst in flight
The trees burst into brilliance,
As light and shadow change,
Burst in flame, a burning bush,
Feathered stillness, beauty abounds
I cannot capture it and keep it,
Spaces of the soul move through,
Thoughts turning, tumbling, spent,
All come into the Spirit of being
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