Beauty establishes its Own Communion

Today, was a cold gray day in Northern California. As I walked home in the drizzle I thought about a comment made by Jorge, a friend of mine.

"Beauty establishes its own communion."

As I mused along these words resonated in my mind. I realized that I haven't written any poetry in quite a while. His words called to the poetry hiding within.

There are mother-of-pearl gray days such as these; subtle moments when the deeper self rises up as wings to touch the rain. "Poet," I tell myself, "your poetry is never far away. Today is a blue gray opal hiding in cumulous clouds and white gardenias." Speaking of which, my gardenia plant offered me a flower and I am intoxicated with its gentle fragrance.