Thursday, February 27, 2014


Cycles, like circles
Can chase their own tail
Snakes without ladders
And bread without ale

Waiting for springtime
We’re tired of the snow
And searching to find
New flowers to grow

In our gardens of soil
Our sweat and our toil
Each color’s divine
In moments that rhyme

The flowers will grow
Whether here or not
But old planted rows
Loves compost that rots

Each color is bright
When a plant matures
If the soil stays black
Then the cycle recurs

Friday, February 21, 2014


Transitions are a time of change
Not time to change the world
Instead a time to change ourselves
Inside this changing world
A change can be quite gentle
But sometimes quite abrupt

We all mature so gradually
We hardly see the change
Somewhat like a glacier flows
As it strains toward low terrain
We’re often blind to see that place
Yet know our path leads there

But change can take us rapidly
If life gives us a ride
Yes,change can take us quickly
As fast as we blink our eye
Like Dragonflies that live below
And change to suddenly fly
Their life begins below the boat
And ends up in the sky

Sunday, February 16, 2014


Smooth or labored with pain
It moves us from here to there
On a Mission or a just a Whim
We move with measured purpose
To meet with certain satisfaction
Just by being there and not here
And accomplishing whatever it is
That we meant to do in going there
All of this so that we can return
To the place that we made our plans
Whether they are the same or changed
Larger or smaller than they seemed
When we first conceived them


Everything lives in an embrace
The ocean embraces the shore
The shore embraces the ocean
Humans walk along the land
Embracing gravity with their feet
Embracing the far away world
With two tender eyes that see
A heart that beats has everything
Understanding all it needs to know
I cannot look at anything without
Sensing an embrace of tender welcome

Friday, February 14, 2014


Life is a strong thread
That runs through
Every living thing
Waking or sleeping
It shadows across our brow
Knowing something
We will never understand
Even though we spend
Much of our life trying


Rocks are hard
And they can last a long time
Patience and resolve
Maybe that is what they practice
As we admire them
And we name them
To keep their power for ourselves
And in that moment
We must state clearly and simply
Time is irrelevant

Beautiful Moment

At the end of every day
There is a magic moment
That runs across the sky
Blacking out man’s land
Beauty before stars arrive
Holding onto its true value
Given freely to those who wait
To watch each sky unfold
Into orange or pink or red
So different from the night
So different from the day
Living in between them
Reminding each of us
That life can be exciting
Its beauty often sandwiched
Between long stretches
Of busy then empty living

Smooth Stone

Noticing a small smooth Stone
I pick it up and inspect it
Then put it safely with others
Deep into my own pants pocket
Clean and smooth I feel them
Warming under my finger tips
As I walk along this path I love
This trail that follows the river
And wakes my heart with feeling
Whenever I forget myself along it
Sometimes, it offers me a stone
But only if I am ready to see it
As if the stone was never there
Before the day that I found it
Yet, as if it has waited forever
For me to notice its Smooth form
Then I stop and bend to pick it up
And carry it to a new home for now
Ancient, smooth, clean and bright
It smiles with warmth as we walk
Along the timeless river that flows
Smoothing every stone that it touches
With its gentle abrasion of wisdom
An endless truth changing forever

Tuesday, February 11, 2014


Movement is a miracle
In a life that is sublime
It takes us to the healer
Or to buy organic limes

Movement is a miracle
Trees can’t understand
Wind blows into autumn
Moving leaves across the land

Wintertime for plants
Is a time for sleep or rest
Birds that fly seem restless
Just before they leave their nest

When I think of movement
I see all my furry friends
The warmer that their coats are
The less they need to spend

Movement is a miracle
That runs from here to there
The only thing that differs
Is the speed at which we scare

Friday, February 7, 2014

Barred Owl

Perched on a branch
Near the edge of the forest
Close to my open door
In the blackness of the night
Owl practices its hollow call
Ruling the world of darkness
With such confident mastery
My snoring brought the bird
Now its eerie call wakes me
And sends me into silence
Wishing to know the night
Wanting to watch the owl call
Before the sun takes the night