Days of work left

As I prepare for the holidays

I drift through the hours

Falling playfully

Here

Then there

Dropping fast

A flashing pinball

Into a field of silver

Spheres extending arms

Like rigid feathers

Or old school t.v. antennae

Connecting in a blanket of visions

And of sounds of crisp crackling goodness

*

Ways to see the good

May be far and few between

Sometimes they’re very clear

Sometimes they can’t be seen

Here

Or hiding

Anywhere

The elusive wildlife

Is always there

Every being is wild

In our habitat, Outstretched

Awareness results from our senses

Starting simple

As a sketch

*

We develop feelings

Many times

With dots that we connect

With no choice assuming

Other times

Requiring a good effort

To solve mysteries with poise

We find an understanding

Of what we hear and see

Strut our stuff

And use our voice

Value hides

Assumption presides

Until our best sense is deployed

*

‘Best sense’ can be what we see

Like a million snowflakes on a tree

Then gone into another form

Another place when It gets warm

Sometimes our best sense can be heard

Like when we share a friendly word

Hello

The day is up to you 

Best wishes you are happy getting through

I’ll keep saying what I say

It’s all on me

It’s what I do

***