Life’s long labyrinth opens 
to green fields of light and pain, 
tumbling fields of joy and sorrow 
that speak of possibilities as they fall.
I sit in sunlight for the first time 
since my heart failed 
as slats of light enter the room.  
through the window’s translucent blinds. 
Warm light caresses my skin, touches my face, 
penetrates my body like an x-ray.  
I look through the window 
at the yellow life-giving sun 
as long as my eyes could bare to look, 
then break into uncontrollable weeping
at the luminescence of the day, rejoicing.
This morning, this morning,
shafts of light through the hospital bedroom 
ignite the fire of life within me, 
slice through my weary brain to remind me 
of all that I desire to fulfill before 
I slip through that window into the final dark night.
                        

As we approach the picnic table
the braided stream twists and narrows,
from muddy banks
two Mallards dive into its flow,
floating swiftly downstream
driven by abiding currents.