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Optimist

My March Lenten sky
plain as a tablecloth,
still milk, cotton shroud.
Ten Canada Geese
charge over the treetops
into April's riot.
Siphoning my faith
straight into God.
Tugging the tendons of my pride.
Unveiling me; a sculpture of hope
rooted in my lawn and reaching
into the pockets of tomorrow.
Searching for a butterscotch
like a gift from Grandpa
home from the factory.

Comments

  1. Hello Patrick, I was taken by the tenderness
    and the spirituality of your poem's words
    and the visuals it gifted my mind with.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thinking of the spiritual quality of geese...here they are messengers, bringers of good news straight to the source of all good news, and the transformation goes from there.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thank you Sandy (and I can never thank you enough)

    ReplyDelete

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