Tomorrow Look for Litany


Quiet nature

And it’s not

It’s noisy—screeching, scratching,

Tearing, flapping, crying out

In pain or loss or delight


It’s an uneven, all-textured

Unbalanced affair

Not all spheres are smooth in space,

Not every nest has beauty


There are scars and broken limbs

That bespeak mortality

But could we have it any other way


There is math in the nautilus

And harmony when mourning doves

Begin the day in need

Conversing with each other:


Come, join me

In this tree, set with me


C L Couch