Poets' Pleasures by smzang

The day rises slowly
pink faced and fresh as a daisy,

It is a gift, but not just one gift,
or...if it is one gift
it has a hundred bows,

or maybe a thousand
or more    depending
on the size of your heart.

The birds and their song
the beginning, Dawn with a bow
all its own, Then your first yawn

taking in oxygen, and from there
every mile has its miracles,
gifts to be opened;

Each one is a poem
waiting for your alphabet.

Denying Entropy by smzang

True perspective must be learned
while standing on the edge
looking down, a mighty fall,

or looking up
with  feet firmly on the ground,
eyes on the sky.

It is a choice,
the dark abyss or heaven.
It has a lot to do with direction

and sometimes reinvention.
Breathe in, fill your lungs with wind,
your heart with sun

and keep moving.
Build a strong foundation
but keep in mind

there will be surprises.