Shangrilashram

Crow pheasants sang in the morning,
gently waking other beings,
as butterflies danced in the air

Thoughts dissipated in the calm,
while flowers stood guard,
keeping drama and din at bay

Homemade music,
wordless and gentle,
flowed from porch to porch,
as desires and identities fell away

Stars and lightning bugs filled the sky,
while crickets and toads sang lullabies
in the garden of peace and calm

Shangrila,
a place to simply be
now