This morning as I sat having my tea (delicious) I looked around me and thought how often I take for granted the objects I see every day.I see them, but I don't really see them.
For instance, my glasses were on the table, but then I noticed how scarred the table had become from every day use, and really how beautiful the colors were on the edges of my glasses. I think there is a certain symmetry between the smoothness of the glasses and the rough surface of the table.
I noticed the cornbread in the pan.
The butternut squash was on the counter and had such an interesting texture.
The knives in the knife block grabbed my attention.
My daughter is saving onion skins in a bowl to use for dyeing, and they are really beautiful.
I noticed this little Wisteria seed on the window sill, and it's color and texture matched the wood of the sill.
The chalk we use for our message board, placed on a piece of aluminium foil.
An ornament hanging from a knob on my mirror, I pass it each day with hardly a glance.
The glass doorknob in my front room. I see these things every day without really seeing them. I find that there is a great deal of beauty in simple things if I just look and really see
The angry wind pelts the windows
with icy finger of rain.
Rivulets like white blood flow
across the transparent surface.
It's furious voice rips across the roof
pounding, seeking entrance.
Roaring in it's fury,
white lines of fire thread, zig-zag
to the wet earth.
The parking lot, a black river.
The dark sky rumbles
A mighty bellow and
once again the fingers of fire race to earth.
The pelting rain increases it's tempo
while white flashes like
flickering neon signs
light the silent parked cars.
Then the clattering on the roof softens.
Finally it slows to a soft patter, then ceases.