An Open Mind
by Geoffrey Heptonstall

To hear the morning song
rise with an opening mind
to see the tears of innocence
take root where they will fall.
Nothing so cold it has no life
to feel the growth of the heart
beating in measured steps
across a glistening surface.
What is not ice is water.
Such truth surrounds our world.

Consider then how the leaves are
found in a scattered pattern
as random as the traces of rain.
Reading the leaves reveals the tree
that guards the forest dark
in its deepest secrecy.
So many fingers plough the soil
moving through each stage of wisdom.
In the wellspring of our native tongue
speaks another mind of knowing.



 

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