The breath held within
When a slight back twist
And planting of legs again
Apparently it’s 11:19 a.m.
Like on every other appliance
That sets automatically to noon
After plugging it in when you move
I’ve been working on this piece for a while now and can’t determine if I want it to be a song or a poem. For now, it’s set up as a song, but I can see it going either way. Let me know if you think it should be a poem or a song in the comments.
Contemplation upon my face
Reflects my soul’s current state
Witnessing the One who lets me be
Welcoming actions not taken by me
While trees are still green,
The lightest of all breezes
Pushes brown leaves gently
Over the roof’s edge to be seen.
Last year, I read Leadership Without Easy Answers by Ronald A. Heifetz. The following poem was part of me processing the main thrust of the book: adaptive change. There’s so much more I could write, but for me, this suffices for now.