For the NaPoWriMo prompt, a poem about gifts, giving, and what is worth wanting.
What I want is peace
for it comes dropping slow
and growing with spring flowers
where the blackbird sings
to hear all day the notes taken
one by one and tossed into the stillness
as if their perfection is no great feat.
the great slow dance of the stars
and the owls’ calling fills the sky
from side to side
soft and wild as the eyes of a hind.
I will have some peace here
where evening sifts the golden light
and finds nothing wanting.
There is beauty in the poet’s words
and in this corner of an unsown field
and though there is nothing else here
there is nothing else to want.