In June

All around me,
there are worlds
within and beyond
my world
inviting me to let go
of my preoccupations
and enter.

The mourning dove coos
a deep lullaby from afar,
quieting my bothered mind.

A squirrel,
flitting from tree to tree,
stops momentarily
and watches me with one eye
as if to ask,
“Are you coming?”

The leaves of the redbud tremble
with a hint of new life
while the elderberry’s petals
snow down
a lacy, white pathway.

Everywhere I look,
there is a poem
waiting to be written.

I am listening.

By Maria Brady-Smith