Miracluous Disentropy

Watch a bird gathering
the smallest winterfallen twigs
one by one to fly them
to a crotch of limb and trunk
high in a stillbare tree.

Thus are the scatterlings
interwoven in the very tree
from whence they were blown,
the tendency toward disorder
overcome in the bird’s design.

Take an iceground pebble
from a moraine and carry it
up a mountain. Balance it
upon an improbable cairn.
Pick up a weathered bird’s nest.

Hold it in the palm of your wonder.

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About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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8 Responses to Miracluous Disentropy

  1. Heartafire says:

    This is truly beautiful!

  2. Aenne says:

    Your poems seem naturally simple but always powerful! It’s beyond great!

  3. “stillbare” “scatterlings” “iceground” …. I love the language you create. All the words tempt the tongue and mind’s eye.

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