Home business, home education and health challenges: what makes us tic?

The opalescent
cheshire crescent
of an adolescent moon
beams a mischievous hello.
Wake up!
Play with me.
Leave your slumberland
and see my stars.
Don’t miss the dawn!

The night’s deep sleep
welcomed with gentle meditation.
HEAR.
What is outside of you?
Calm the raging
inside your head
and BE.

Plip.
       Plop.
         Plip.
           Plop-Plop.

Raindrops
bungee from the gutter
and meet the ground
in gay abandon
unafraid.
Pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pittter
Drizzle bedazzles the darkening leaves
(we need the rain).
Plink
Plink
Plink
Plink
The rain’s foot soldiers hit the ground
Drop-and-roll
feed the earth,
burrow to her heart,
find the motherlode.
Deeper streams carry
the watery infantry home
to the sea.
(The good ones get called up again).
Shhhh zhhhh
Obstreperous wind, never one
to be left out
Turns earth and fauna
into night music.
Frogs croon in many voices
(no croaking).
Even the generator next door
(banning silence and darkness and peace)
is a sweet kind of music.
It is without.
Be still.

Plip
   Plop
     PLINK
pitter-pitter-zhhhhh

Plip
   Plop
     PLINK
pitter-pitter-zhhhhh

Mother Nature’s beatbox
backs the vocals
of bugs and frogs and bats and nightjars
and foxes (whatever they may say)
and the gentle nightmusic
lulls me to sleep.
God’s own lullaby.

The moon is a mischievous Loki
to the sun’s giant blonde
Thor.
Naughty, playful little sister.
(“Stop sleeping” she whispers
in her tinkling silver voice).
Stars tumble off her tongue
as she laughs
at my sleep-bedecked eyes.
“Be awake! The night is far spent.”
And I’m up.
The magnet-pull
of silver night
and fiery dawn (I hope)
and deep velvet silence
before the day’s song starts …
and morning pages …
I am no match
for their powers of seduction.

I am awake.

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