The Poetry of Life
“Man does not control his own fate. The women in his life do that for him.” -Groucho Marx To me, life is often felt as a poem might be felt. Life is poetry in motion and I often feel poetry in my heart and soul; as I feel life. How about you, and how do you feel life? Often my morning time as the remnants of night is still with me, is a time when I feel poetry move within me. I have what I call my morning window, an east facing window overlooking my yard and trees and the neighborhood. I sit there first thing in the morning as I watch the sun rise or move on its path across the sky, and I meditate, or write, and spend time communing with my soul. I look out my morning window and depth of feeling; usually inspired by nature wells up in me. An example of what wells up in me is below. The Golden Morning: The sun’s rays roll over the leaves and branches casting golden hues through