Words beneath a dappled sky

Behind my hand that holds the door,
The stove burns warm, the kettle steams -
But still I stand and clutch my coat,
To fill my breath with the greener things

I sometimes wonder if the most important things in this life are much softer and smaller than we think they are. A cup of tea in the sunlight, a change in the air with coming spring.

Silver Day
( It was a silver sort of day )
-
The First Wind
( How sweet its scent )
-
A Drop of Honey
( Tip the honey-bear and pour me out )
-