Daily Practice

Today the brood of unruly
bluebirds just might transition
to the sky. Especially
the largest, who steps over
his siblings to call out
entreaties and demands,
filling the round hole,
blocking the only source
of light.

I practice moving
to the center, each childish
facet a reminder of where
I’ve been. The uneasy
insight that something’s not
right snipped before fully
flowering. And now,
years later, a random prompt
like the illuminating sun.

I shift out of the calendar
of days and these relentless
minutes. There are places
that I touch, trembling,
awaiting, alive
outside of history.
When I bend that linear rule
and step into
what needs to be healed
the morning silences.
A crow caws thrice.
I am here.
I count.

Inspired by: Brood, Snip, Random and Transition.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

5 thoughts on “Daily Practice”

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