What is the colour?

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What is the colour
That laughs aloud
Against a fiery sky?

This dimunitive form
Wrapped in leaves
Singing out the day.

The feathered ferns
How quiet
In the shadow of the trees.

The languid cloud
Drapes the sky
In dusky pink.

In silence the robin
Fills his chest
Lets fly a chirping fusillade.

The ungainly moment
Staggers by my cabin
Wending its willful way.

Parsimony they agreed
Occam and his brothers
Yet plundered the world.

If wind makes acorns rain
And growing dark the forest stain
When, then, will you return again?

The Hermitage, Chapel Peak.

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About Jamie Nicol

Living in the forested hills of Catalonia, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Zen teacher, recovering philosopher, small-scale natural farmer. Writing just what comes.
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