pearl from shadow

there is no finer promise
than the uncertain light
which finds you
from between the blinds
and casts you
in bewitching blue –

a hue into which my hands
are driven to dive –
pulling the pearl
from the shadow

© Sarah Whiteley

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what the day contains

brown drifts of coffee grounds,
and the tappings of the black-capped chickadee
finding rhythm with the tick-ticking
of spring rain on new-green locust leaves
the passing hours mold the morning
into the firmer lines of day,
tracing the flights of fugitive birds –
red hawk, wren, house finch, crow,
ubiquitous dust-winged sparrow
shadows lazily skate and shift,
thumbing plants and spines of books,
shelves graced with inconsequential treasures –
of feather, stone, and sloping shell
the peonies on the window,
barely beyond their prime,
settle into fading brilliance
with unabashed aplomb
and if it might seem I forget you
amidst this gentle roster –
you’re the one, though absent,
who gives the hours their reason
and this simple room, its light

© Sarah Whiteley

unraveling

it is a relief to not be raveled –
but rather to be finely woven

like a sweet grass basket,
or pale roots that reach deep
into the comforts of soil and loam

in equal parts flourish and succor,
I have discovered in us a landscape –
an expanse of trust and generous sky

and things between are not a tug-of-war –
darkness versus the light –

but rather quiet observations
on how sunlight coaxes shadows
into long, delightful things

© Sarah Whiteley

Four more days, and all the work craziness will finally be behind me. It will be a relief to be done and a blessing to once more have the time to actually focus on writing and reading. Be well, my friends – I’ll see you soon!