Exciting, exotic, exquisitely beautiful world
in its immensity
builds from the miniscule cell
Roar of the storm outside
quiets silent turmoil inside.
as my thoughts jump
from one to another
while sitting in the shower stall
soaking my feet.
What can this jumble of cells stir within?
Pattern/patterns of the cell/cells —
in the glass and out
change as my head moves
and light glows through the window
from vast ether beyond
while white world sprinkled with inky lines
obliterates seeds of creation’s bond.
These too swirl.
All is one
one in all
from a cell.
How can this miracle of cells that is me
I perform best before I rest while alive?
Should I even try?
Margery McManus Leach