Winter has lingered. The landscape still looks ragged in places,
showing the power and unwelcome wrath of Mother Nature.
But early morning gives hope. The human spirit is still intact.
Outside my window, hungry birds fight at the feeder.
White jet streams cut across the pale sky,
carrying anticipating travelers to their new destination. Below them life has changed forever, but it is still good.
I linger a while with that first cup of coffee.
The day stretches before me like a canvas, clean and untouched.
It will bring busyness. But I stay still for a moment,
savoring the early morning feeling that all is well
and there's a promise of Spring.
(This poem was written on a cold February morning,
following the devastation of Katrina.)
