Portrait of a Lady (after Van der Weyden)

Her eyes steadily gazing

Past history, past death

Her features set 

In calm determination

Her fingers modestly clasping

For eternity

It is a noble art that imparts

Such tranquility to existence

The bold squirrel

Desperate for food

Gnaws at your bag

In belief that food is hidden

Not surprising that manners go

When hunger is severe

Body heavy

Drifting into sleep

The clouds are pillows

The earth your bed

Fatigue imposed by life

From rage and fear

Tiny rabbit

Poised before a bush

Heedless of the coming storm

You were left to fend for yourself

And now your sensitive ears 

Catch the sound of thunder

You and the squirrel

His brown eyes signaling recognition

He stands in begging posture

On his finely articulated feet

Imploring you as a brother

In a world we did not make

Or a shape we did not voluntarily assume

In a past life he could have been you with the bag of nuts

And you could have been the one with the fluffy tail and searching hard brown eyes

It is only reciprocity

It is the blue sky

Calm as graves

That impresses peace

You wander among the stones

And stare at a large white motionless

Cloud

The nervous twitching of the birds

Heads cocking and bobbing

Eyes scanning

Feathers ruffling

With beaks darting to inspect and clean

You throw food and they fly away 

Only to return with great caution

To get their free meal—

Such anxiety and suspicion is

Almost human