poem #1

walking, just walking, sometimes just this
no thoughts, no decisions, just plain walking

you see the light of the day
striking on the trees and plains and the daffodils

you are not part of it, you are just walking it
you are met by the wind from the mountain

you are not talking you are not interested about
what this wind these trees these daffodils are bringing you

you do not show any interest at all about some leaves falling
the light spreads and sprawls on the grass and sand and pebbles

you are not dazzled you are not completely covered by light
you are just walking, stepping into God's own creation

spectator, just plain walking in, not involved, not commenting
just plain watching, those that crawl and sprawl, those that stay and leave

those that simply lay themselves as plain receptors, grass and sang
mountains and trees, and daffodils, those that merely wait and unmoved.