Open Eyes

Sometimes
I meditate with open eyes.
Take to the cliffs and watch

children chase the tides.
Watch as blackbirds fly to shore
beneath the pale, wistful moon

of morning. Study them as they
come to rest upon the branches
of black green sea pines, singing

with the emotion of sunlight.

Sometimes
when the singing stops
I see colors in the wind

and hear whispers from the rocks.

And, sometimes
after the moon has set
young starlings come

and test the sky with new wings.

The children do not seem to mind
they learn distraction at a very young age.
They stay within themselves

because they do not, yet   trust the branch. 

By Brian Michael Tracy