She stood on the front porch admiring the orchid blossoms.
Her care and patience had yielded a beautiful specimen.
Now that the cooler autumn weather had arrived,
they would last much longer, she thought to herself.
There was some music playing off in the distance,
a secret transmission from another world perhaps.
Then a sudden breeze snatched it away, and now
the random rustle of settling leaves, subtle noises
from little creatures vying for a place to rest and decay.
The spirit forms of countless silent beings swirled around her,
approached and passed right through her, but she didn’t flinch,
she was wise in that way, and she kindly let them have their play.
The bird baths needed to have their water replenished,
her dog was lobbying for his next meal, and besides,
there were cashews to salt and roast waiting in the kitchen.
She was her own lyric poem, happy, and this is how she read:
trading songs with her canary, the whole wide world is kissed.