River rocks bend to water’s will
Creating new channels, new current,
Silver flecks green edges of riparian leaves,
Canadian geese idly searching for treasure.
Is the world still alive if my eyes don’t observe?
Or alive when my mind wanders and scurries?
How many times have I walked past a river
Blind to the symphony of aliveness?
Worried thoughts hide present moments.
Awareness is the gift.
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Thanks!
Great poetry man. Liked it.
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Thank you.
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