Singing bowl

Morning meditation.  Glad for it.

I watch the early morning sun

Through still green leaves,

Doors open to hear the birds,

I hear lawnmowers instead.

I find my finger circling

The top of my dinosaur coffee mug,

Realize almost anything

Can be a singing bowl,

Faint singing

But singing nonetheless.

Now I hear the birds

Under the sound

Of the lawnmower.