Watching bees
Grass is green
Spring is here
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Watching bees
Grass is green
Spring is here
The evening air is still—
Black ice it lies in waiting—
Walking with the cold
I watch asphalt exhaling.
If winter had a home—
Or frost a day to rest—
It be within this heart,
It be within this breath.
If you’re not sure
then pause, wait
and listen to the sounds
of conscious—nothing—ness.
I open my eyes knowing
everything I need
lies within