I wake in first light of morning.
The cool air drifts into my open window.
I hear a single crow call in the distance.
Far away, a dog barks twice.
The birds begin to sing their sunrise song.
At first just one or two —
I think about how peacefully the human world is sleeping,
while sap runs through the wakened trunks and branches
and dark soil murmurs messages of spring.
I wonder what my neighbours might be dreaming.
Or are there some
awake and listening?
And just for a moment
I tentatively reach out
into the web of energetic filament
that connects us all.
I feel some hearts touch mine,
We are pleasantly surprised
to see each other in that moment.
And then we move on.
©Diane Finkle Perazzo
This poem appears in Could This Be the Last Time: A collection of poems on pandemics, places, and everything. Compiled by Apt613 National Poetry Month April 2020