It is five-am, with little light,
some would say the sky is dark:
before the chorus of the dawn
no birdsong yet – do hark!
But look again, just out there,
where trees all silhouetted stand,
proudly jutting from the earth,
into the night-sky fanned:
an array of branches reaching out
into the darkness – pray!
Is it not for catching moon-beams
that the leaves, all angled, stay?
How can the leaves have silhouettes,
unless the sky is bright,
with the faintly glowing silvery,
constellations of star-light?
Is it that we just don’t notice,
or do we choose that we don’t see,
that softly glowing, heaven’s light,
comes shine – or do we sleep-
walk through each day where ,
so many sights be seen,
that for the simplest beauty, then,
our eyes no longer keen!
So seize upon the silence,
but seize by letting go,
and see that all around you,
is a soft, celestial glow!
whistling ninja 