A windchime
shutters to life.
Little had I thought
of a windchimes need
for chaos and swirl.
“Be the windchime”
I realize
as practice closes
and in perfect timing I
am set to step into Now,
despite the unpredictable
circumstances and
clouds,
those pushing undercurrents,
life’s unavoidable buoys and lifts,
life’s twisting gates,
opening and closing
with the weather,
with storm
“Be the windchime”
I realize
Make sweet sounds
in the turbulence
of your own life
not for others this time,
but for you
You are the windchime
MAMA BIRD 
Oh Terah, thank you so much! I can relate so deeply.
Oh Lea!
Thank you!
Merci beaucoup mon amie!
David says once he read you a line and it said the art of poetry is to add strangeness to beauty. Your reply was that you wanted to add beauty to strangeness. this poem has done that in a lovely way. It’s good.
Oh, wow! You two!! ❤ Perhaps strangeness and beauty are synonymous…maybe not always, but certainly often!
Thanks for this reminder.
Pleased you commented Transcribingmemory–I’m following you now. Cheers (I’m drinking coffee.)
Aww thanks! I look forward to sharing posts!