I went out tonight.
I shut the door behind me.
Instantly I was blind.
I walked slowly to the edge of the porch
And sat on the topmost step.
The black on black sky
Began to glow with inky luminescence,
But a perfect tarnished silver backdrop
For the charcoal sketch that was everything beyond my skin.
The branches and trunks of trees were lines of shadow
And I saw the most intricate shapes in the intertwining of the lines.
After my eyes woke to the world at night,
My ears followed suit.
Frogs and crickets and birds
(I’m sure there were some birds)
Filled the air with their croaks and squeaks and trills.
The echoes bounced from tree to tree so that one song came from all sides
And joined with the other songs in surround sound that Bose can’t match.
I heard something small and furtive moving through the un-raked leaves beside the porch.
I heard a deer
(It had to be a deer, from the size of the sound)
Crash through the swamp nearby.
Not long ago the crashes and skitterings would have made me nervous.
A bit nervous,
Not too much,
In the past, anything not fully seen,
Would have done that.
I’ve never had control.
I know who does.
That proves a release and a relief.
I don’t need control.
I can sit
In the noisy quiet
And feel the gentle spring breeze
Carrying a faint memory of winter
And a faint promise of summer
Wrap around me.
The mind expands under the stars
It was hard to come back in.
It was peaceful out there.
Maybe I can carry peace with me