What is there?

Just now I see no birds—
earlier, a cardinal.
The thoughtless storm 
that just swept by 
challenges the living things 
struggling to survive. 

Now a cold rain persists,
wetting everything,  
even the hidden sparrows;
yet it nourishes what grows.
I feel the outside cold inside of me. 
The palpable rawness makes awareness
of the warmth surrounding me
even more welcome,
though, undeserved.

I’m grateful for the outside world
that still persists, 
struggling to survive,
just now, losing. 
Liturgies ask us to open our eyes;
only we can do that.
Will we learn to do that?
Or is it already too late to learn?

I need someone I love 
to hug me, now,
make clear we’re here,
where sparrows – or some at least –
chirp despite the storms.

Thin wiggling rivulets flow 
down the large windows,
blurring everything outside. 
Is pondering the best that I can do
before I go?

.

George Link Spaeth is an artist at heart. He was encouraged by his parents to be creative, and was inspired by his wife Ann to be a better, more aware human being. Despite over 50 years as a practicing ophthalmologist, he has composed music and written poetry and prose consistently over the course of his long life. He is now working to compile some of his art, which tries to convey a sense of wonder, and to reflect upon it earnestly. At 92, his work is now published in Snapdragon Journal, Gemini Magazine, and in two anthologies by Moonstone Press. His chapbook, Hope for Awareness, was released in 2024. He is based in Philadelphia and can be found at www.georgelspaeth.com.