four walls and an eight-foot ceiling close in

thoughts build   reverberate   echo   

sanity lies with vistas   meadows

ocean swells   

crashing waves   intimacy

see that   see the bumblebee

at the ajuga

and the high cirrus portending

a change

maybe rain   how we need it

and how we need long walks

and smiles for passing strangers

listen   is that the tanager   listen

thunder 

listen   ships' bells and foghorns 

hear the breeze through treetops

feel the heat and cold   the weight of air

look   barely visible

beyond 

the golden hills   the sun's last light 

~  

it is lovely to be inside on a cold and dreary day   

safe within four walls

but note the signs   be aware

of the closing in 

of the intensity of interior spaces

~

i begin to feel it   

and though there are countless images

and sounds and sensations

yet to consider

i heed the words of colonel brandon   i must away

~

and i hear birdsong

the breeze through treetops

feel the weight of air   see the meadow

all that is missing

are ocean swells and crashing waves

bumblebees and ship's bells and foghorns

distant hills and sunset

passing strangers and high cirrus clouds

portending change

what i do have   is enough