I woke to morn, mouth open wide
yet not in feathered bed
but in a nest atop a tree
and reaching toward the sky
Perched high from ground to take the fruit
wearing but my skin of birth
abrupt and swiftly wisdom flowed
awareness taking root
I wake to morn and wonder meaning
of a message kindly sent
by some wise spirit who had appeared
while I lay deftly dreaming.
(I sketched this the morning after so I would not forget)
This is a beautiful poem Carolyn.
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Thank you, Ken!
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You’re welcome
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