Hawk

Sometimes, the hawk forgets it is flying
Sometimes, it looses sight of the miracle
That lays still and unmoving all around it
But every now and then its wings
Entangle seamlessly with the beauty
Of this whole living place
Freeing us all to watch the hawk
Soar into its endless dream of change
Pursued and pursuing
Avoiding and seeking
Fullness and emptiness
Love is a breeze that can carry it higher
Than wings ever will

Beau Chien Blanc

The dog brought back a forest I never knew
I never smelled it till she ran-off
And then brought it back for us
In the moment she arrived the forest changed
Gone was the sun and soft evening light
Lost were the delicate cedar fronds
My senses were fully given to the dog
I searched her eyes to understand
The prize she found in this smell
That she had gleefully rolled out
Then proudly cloaked herself with
Our understandings of this gift
Drifted so very far apart
Gone was the forest I brought in my dreams
Arrived was that which I never expected
Now my mind bathes dogs
As I stand beside my own awareness
And the birds fly noisy above

Tree Branch

I stood
In a forest
On a quiet day
Nothing moved
                                      Leaves and needles could easily speak
Above the
Stillness
Of silence
Then I heard a large branch fall                                                
Far away maybe
I couldn't tell
Nothing moved
It frightened me
It cautioned me
Hold your dreams
It reminded me
I am vulnerable
As every moment
Unveils its secret

Summer Road

I drove a road I did not know
A summer road through the forest
On a hot day with a good car
And a deep companion
The road was two bare tracks
With grass from edge to edge
The trees were tall and mature
The forest seemed to respect the road
And let it rest smooth and even
Over its steep belly above an ocean

After an hour we reached
A narrowing
A place where alder
Found a footing near the road
Crimping it too tight with their branches
For the car to pass
Stepping out with the dogs
We walked through the narrowing
It wasn’t that far but we were simplified
On the other side
The car was left behind
We walked on through the silent forest
Slowly starting to hear its voice
Under the hot day but within
The cool shadowed arms of its trees
It was pleasant and cool and gentle

The road widened again in the wild forest
It seemed to celebrate our visit
A single dried bear scat
Full with salmon berry seeds
Told its own story of this place
The bear had walked on
After salmon berries were gone
Leaving this place to us
We turned back when our legs got tired
Accepting that this unknown place
Was our journey and our destination
Was simply gratitude

Knowing

I took you to the river
In my thoughts today
It was so quiet standing there
Listening inside and outside
Needing nothing

I remembered you heard
The leaves breathe once
So I looked at them
Round and silent beads
From last nights rain
Perfect little spheres
All different sizes and colors
Resting scattered crumbs
On the bright young faces
Of wild roses and their leaves

The roses were beautiful
But I couldn’t hear them breathe
A gentle knowing spun me
And drew my eyes far away
To a place on the river
Clean on its current
Where I watched the salmon crest
Breaking the water
Without surprise
Just where my eyes waited

A gentle whisper smiled
We are all known
In our own way
To different parts
Of this world

Silent Sky

I am in joy with your silence
These are not small mountains to move
Yet they will move on their own
Even if we don't watch them
They will pretend we can will them
Just be happy as every bird
in the sky has its own space
and Mountains will go
Where they go

Seasons

Seasons flow from the ground
Drawn from the earth by the sun
To whisper at flowers and fallen leaves
To sing with love in the wind
A soft but urgent knowing
Like an ant’s spent wings
Left behind
At the first light touch of a branch
Or the first heard whisper
Of a new season
As a flower unfolds
Or a leaf lets go
That moment of eternity
Drops its wings forever

Vine Maple

Kevin Schafer/Photodisc/Getty Images

You found me in your forest
Near the foot of a full grown fir
I noticed your flock of leaves
Delicate and perfect and proud
Each choosing its own green
Shimmering silently
In the filtered light of the forest
Tremouring truthfully
In the delicate breeze of my breath

I am called to notice you again
Your leaves so bright in this light
Attached to the dark woody thread
Of your forest stems
Lifting them above the rich littered earth
And offering them to the highest of heavens

Seven lobes on each perfect leaf
Health, happiness, generations, generosity
Humbleness, forgiveness and understanding
Steps that were walked by ancestors
Thousands of years ago
And just as the salmon return
To greet this land and to find their purpose
These leaves returned
To lift their stems heavenward

Movement

I looked up at the sky
I don’t know why
Close to the middle was a triangle
A gull, a plane and the moon
They seemed still in that instant
But my eyes lingered
And the triangle changed shape
All three were moving
Different heights
Different speeds
Different directions
Each with a destination
Each with a presence
Connected not dependent
Then I looked at my own feet
I was moving too
Then I realized that the earth
Was on its own mission of movement
Spinning and speeding and wobbling
I became dizzy just thinking about it
And I probably never even penetrated
the surface of change
That is our close companion here
So what is it really that seems still

The Crow

It is one short block
From the hot dry dust
In the corners of my garden
To the cool and windy
Presence of the sea

In yesterday's summer wind
Everything was moving
Everything was growing
The sounds of the world
Hid the stream I usually hear
From the rock I often sit on

Across from me a tree
On the far point
Small in size
But so fully
Of this place
Happy in this wind
Above its breaking waves
Alone on its rocky ocean point
The tree seemed still on the outside
But so alive on the inside
With ocean music
Never lonely
In its love

The stream
I listened for
Seemed silent
So I looked around
To see a crow standing on the ground
Just ahead of me and in gentle conversation
With a child that came to this beach
With her family
Their purpose of a picnic lost
With the sandwiches all gone

There plays my reason
For being here
A crow and a little girl
Both reaching beyond the sun's light
Past the tree's rough bark
And me knowing life's seed
Was planted in their sharing

Waking

Lying there
Listening to the body
Try to explain
The dashed dreams
Of a soul
Silenced by years
Of solitary patience
Deafened by thousands
Of tread upon shells

Draw back the curtain
Let the metal rings clink
Let the wooden rings clack
Let the fabric swish
And stand aside for the sun
To shine through
Let its light touch reach
Through your broken body
And heal your heart
Then mend your body
Together with your soul

Lift the veil
Of false perception
Hear what is there
See what is there
And dance with it
Forget the menu
And sit down to the feast

Flowers

Flowers in the garden
Orange
Pink
Lavender
blue
Yellows of all hues
Violet
More blue
And red
Inviting but not soliciting
Life
To be lived

Dragonfly
Dark and thin
Neon blue at its tip
(Who asked why)
Lights
On the rail
In front of my eyes
My place set
In the middle
Of a miracle

Hummingbird
Named for its sound
Two feet away
Straw in a pink flower
Hovers
With rufus colors
Aglow in the sun
Ever changing
Buzzing wings electric hum
Piercing me

Relaxing is impossible
In front of this creature
Whose body burns
So much faster
Than mine

Wonder
Puts this fire out
Then
Starts another blaze

A Stream

A stream flows where there wasn't one before
Cool water where long grass wept with thirst
A path for the salmon to follow
A place for the frogs to call
A stream that flows from the heart
Leaves a footprint pressed in sand
While seeds from the land
Lodged in my sweater
Softly hum the music
Of this place

Magic Moment

At the end of a day
The sun’s light
Warm and soft
But bright
Brings a new clarity
To everything it touches
Just as the end
Of our own days
May reveal a truth
That stood unnoticed
In every earlier moment
Of our lives

The Sun

Even if we can’t look at it
We still mold its image in our minds
Shifting, changing it to suit our stance
Fashioning it as we need it to be
Because it comes every day
We can fail its truth and say
I know what is there
I know what will come
I serve it well enough
Even if we really don’t know it at all
Even if we don’t respect it enough
But because it is there every day
We will have just enough to live by
Until we know
Everything is connected
And the sun’s arrival
Is purely a miracle

Lost

I have never been lost forever
But I have felt I’d never be found
It almost seems I’ve been more lost
In the middle of a wandering
Than at a start or near its end
My mind is lost right now
I can’t remember the beginning
I can’t see an end
And I sure hope this isn’t the middle
It is just seems too far from anywhere
To be anything other than lost
I guess that is because I have always felt
That I was going somewhere
Instead of just being someplace
In the middle of what is at that moment
Where we are allowed to be real
Where we need to be real
To be found

Stillness

Still in that moment
On a path under unchecked trees
The forest view breaks
Over a clear view of the ocean
Raised land across the straight
Unchanged in my memory
Since I woke a child
Unchanged in my memory
Since I wept a man
Unchanged before me
As I see beyond it
To God’s own shoulder
This ever-present gift
Three times given
A blessing to the soul
As the wind breathes me

Tree

I cut a tree from the front garden
It was well grown and fully branched
Entwined within a taller and older neighbour
Standing too close with all of its own branches in place
And affecting none from the other’s embrace
Only 15 years old but 30 feet tall now
And together they blocked the sun

From a near distance you couldn't tell it was there
From a near distance you can’t tell it is missing
I have asked others and they don’t seem to notice
Any change to trees around the garden
But the ground below the trees has opened up
Letting dappled light fall onto rich soil
Encouraging older plants to thrive in new ways
Inviting new plants to set roots in the garden
Where dark shadows of thought
Could never welcome them before

The downed tree stands
Only as a memory now
And has made way for new life
In the garden where it stood
And the wood from the tree
Chopped and split and stacked
Offers us warmth for next winter

Outside

It might look
from the outside
that I feel sorry
for myself.
But on the inside
a child is frightened
more than spoiled.
Ashamed to have lost
the sun of the seasons
standing naked and cold.
Alone
in a rain that follows
everyone else’s leaving.
Afraid to step into danger
Afraid to not step into joy
Stuck in the headlights
of someone else’s future.
Knowing that
I have chosen an awkward
lifetime not to be a tree
where, from the outside
I might look just fine.

Ocean Music

Sitting by the ocean
Watching birds fly by
This place
That has never
Known loneliness
But in that instant
I grasped for it
A tide-washed memory
Of sitting here with another
A lonely song
Long since ended
But still playing faintly
In my frightened mind

Then drawn back
to the present music
That is playing
All around me
Soft and subtle
Unending
Waves at the beach
Carry the wind’s heartbeat
In their rhythm
While a nearby
Stream flows
Inside its own melody
And birds will never surprise
The music with their calls
While otters play

The music of this place
Never stops
Always changing
And offers no perch
For loneliness
To light

Family

Family
Is the ocean
That washes against
Our edges
It defines us
As an island
Or a peninsula
Or a mainland
But it is always
Changing with us
Eroding steep shorelines
Building soft beaches
Redistributing
Our presence
Our absence
And floating
Clouds of wonder
Across our horizon
Making us look
Beyond our own edge
While we
Seek the mountain
That shows us north
One certain place
That we are not

How Deep is the River

How deep does the river flow
With cool and precious water
Its origin and destination
Both beyond view
Lost behind forgotten bends
Hidden within our dreams
Origin and destination
Both unimportant
Compared with where I stand
Deep in a rich ravine
Where water
In the river
Is always
Flowing

Now
I stand
At a place
Where water gathers
Below the sluggish pond
To become the river again
Flowing with certainty
And unfolding
Into its
Own
Future

Welcome Home

Welcome home
How nourishing are these words for you now
How far have you wandered
Did your body carry you through a land of longing
Beyond an endless month of hunger
Did you pass through the archway of your own needing
Only to loose that need forever
Has your own love become your favorite shirt
And do you wear it every day
While walking steady toward a setting sun
Welcome home

Sitting

Sitting
High above the waves
I can hear them
And see them
But they make no sense
Here and there a sound
With no reason for it
I heard a splash
When I saw no wave
Then silence
When I expected sound
Was I that far up?
All the beings around me
Danced divinely
And kept their lives
But I lost mine in watching
And listening
Then found it again
In sitting on the hill
Where I was
Vulnerable
Exposed to a fatal event
From above

Reflection

Placid water
On a timeless lake
Inviting us
To find a way through
Our own breathless
Surface

Quiet reflection
Offers its own
Backward view
Of everything
Except the lake

Living beneath
A shallow mirage
Fitted so perfectly
floated so lightly
That its surface
Obscurs
Deeper beauty

The lightest touch
Can dissolve the dream
That hides the lake

Color
Its depth
The temperature
Its nourishing embrace
And all the life
Within it
Joyful

Changes

You need to notice
Everything is changing
Not just a little
But as much as it can imagine
Sometimes more than we can sense
Is drawn into change
And folded
Deep into nature
The sun then the shade
As a spring wind runs
From summer warm
To autumn cool
In one moment
Without a warning
Without apology
And no smile of satisfaction
But truth is there
As we and the world
Are both made new
Through change
An essence of life

Importance

&nbspgoogle image

The sun rises
Every day

Knowing
Its importance
Helps us both
Find thanks

Today
I rose
Unafraid
With the sun

Into an
Infinite sky
Of awareness

Above the
Salted ocean
Of time
That I still
Swim in

Finding nothing
Yet Knowing
That everything
Is important

Sunshine

There were moments
Of wondering
If the sun offered
Enough warmth
To sustain me
Or enough light
To guide me
Anywhere

But not that deep
Inside my shadow
Where time
Is unknown
I believed
The sun
Is not my
Compass

The moon
Is not my heart
And the rain
Is not my thought
My body simply cares
Unafraid in any space
Where all these things
Are not

I invite
The golden sun
My silver moon
And all their rainbows
To dance through me
Sharing, merging
Into a deeper way
Of becoming

Morning Light

photograph by: unknown (Sproat Lake BC)

Last night in darkness
Clouds and their snow
Agreed to part

This morning's
Cold damp light
Found the snow

Tasting branches
Of mountain trees
Across the water

From where I stood
A new white gown
All the way down

I heard the mountain say
Snow has no tongue
And branches hold no taste

Now the snow waits
For sun to draw its warmth
Across the sky

Unlocked from frozen branches
Water rubs its belly on the ground
And its back against the gravel

Water in the stream
Passes bright fish
That move against its current

The stream’s truth
Brings water home
To the ocean at my feet

Where it rests
Joined to others
Sisters and brothers

Knowing now
Just how beautiful
Its journey really is

Hard Rain

Today it rained hard
Then the sun came out
Then it rained again
The sun was warm
And the rain was cold
I was outside
When the hard rain arrived
The dog by my side
While I was wishing
That I had brought a hat
The dog only cared
About the ball he brought
Hidden behind cheeks
In a soft mouth
The cold rain drumming
On my hatless head
Drawing my thoughts
To the surface
Driving me
Into discomfort
While the dog
Seemed to wonder
Why I was in a hurry
To get back home
Because he
Had brought a ball
For both of us
To enjoy

Sometimes

Sometimes everything happens without doubt
Sometimes everything fits where it should
Often it is when our only interest is to feel
All things unfold just as they will
Without wishing for anything different
And letting this everyday miracle
Fully spent itself on truth
And save us from pleasing anyone

Sometimes we work so hard
To make the ball roll the other way
Or be faster or slower or larger or smaller
As we watch and wait like practiced victims
Expecting freedom to arrive
At our own address in superman’s cape
Paper judgment in hand granting our own freedom
Fates picture on its stamp

Sometimes it is easier to let things be
The blue mountain or the grey cloud
That they already are
Than it is to try and change them
Into the flat suggestions
That will never carry a rider on their back

Sometimes when it all comes together
When we want to be who we are
We can find each other and ourselves
Awake in that moment inside of joy
Nothing else will be remembered
In tomorrow’s light

Silence

No words
Describe the silence
That breathes steady
And lives ever-changing
Beneath thought
That echoes inside
And between words
That call from outside

Chasing a thought
Translating a word
Can separate us
From the simple
Love for life
That we meant
To bring along
As a guide

Joyfully lost
Silence breathes air
Under the thoughts
And between the words
That wink and smile
Through a haze
That comforts
An illusion of control

Entering into the world
With careful intention
Confident and open with love
Sometimes feeling lost
Stumbling in darkness
Still willing to walk
Hand reaching through pain
To grasp life’s light

Snowdrop

                                                          google images

I have watched you
Silently appear
Under your pine tree
Day after day
You proudly show me
Your changes
Your steady progress
Toward becoming
Do you see
The change in me
Day after day
Do you notice
That I am
Becoming too

The River

The river is always changing

Its water and its song
From moment to moment
Through an honest conversation
With the season and its weather

I was welcomed here once
Beside the river bank
When summer flow
In the sunshine
Was just the way
I imagined it would be
The moment before I arrived

Now, I come upon the river again
This time, unthinking and unexpectant
I never imagined the river in flood
Before I reached it
My plan was to pass beyond it
But it has been raining hard
And the river is wild against its jagged bank
With water still rising as if angered

The river has forgotten its song
And the character of its river bed
Is buried under a grey sky torrent
Collected and channeled to the ocean
All in such a hurry
That in its rush, the river forgot to bring
Its own crystal melody of water over rock

Soil bitten from stream banks
Unheeded and unswallowed
Has choked and colored the water
Trees with roots and branches
Still in leaf
Are carried like lost children
Back home from a far off war
To a silent sea of loss

From a Boat

Artist:  Gary R Lucy

Sometimes
I like to float
On the water
In a summer boat
Just to see
This hillside
Where I struggle
On my hike
Beside the ocean
Every day

When I see
The hillside
From the cushioned ease
Of a summer boat
It helps me put
Where I have been
And where I am going
Into a new perspective
This worn trail
That I follow
Is hardly visible
From the water
And people
Seem to move
So slowly along it

Sometimes
I wonder why
People even walk it
It starts in the darkness
Of the woods
And it leads up
A bright and treeless hillside
To its lookout spot
At the very top
Where people on the hill can wave
To people in the boats
Who silently wave back
Each one able to see
The other more clearly
Than they see themselves

Wave

I stand
At many shores
Along the Ocean's edge
While waves bring
Messsages
Across the silence to my heart
Each one unique
Some urgent and some quiet
All born in gentle truth
Sometimes I can't hear
Sometimes I don't understand
But waves bring truth
Urgent or otherwise
Toward every shore
Where bare feet stand
In water

Raindrop

photo: google images

How many places have you been
Before you found this window
And drew my eyes to you
And spoke with me though my thoughts
Did you touch an elephant in Africa
Did you fall with an autumn leaf in Russia
Were you used nine times in the Rhone
Before you came to this window
And why out of all the raindrops
That have touched me in my life
Did I notice you and know you
Surely you stand in your drop
With new friends about you
Yet your essence is unmistakable
As if I have known you forever

Simple Presence

Photo: Google Images

Water birds landing
On still water
At a lost backwater
Hidden among trees
Behind banks
Along the River

The sound in stillness
Is unmistakable
And beautiful
Perfect and in unison
Matched in sound
Matched in time

My head turns to the sound
And eyes find birds
Bobbing on top
Of their own disturbance
Proof of new presence
On the still pond

I notice the beaver’s nose
Pushing water aside
The determined Vee
Of water now rippling
Under the mallards
And lost in reeds
At the pond’s margin

Beaver ignores
The beautiful visitors
And remains loyal
To the focused work
Of tending a pond
A smile lands and finds me
Connected to it all

Bright and Shiny

Unborn, undying and everlasting
The part that waits for me
On firm ground, timeless where I left it
Even after this old favorite shirt
The self I lived in for so long
Now frayed and thinned and ripped
Still resists being laid aside
Yet knowing in my own heart
It is outgrown and beyond mending
Now, more than ever before
I want to hold that bright and shiny key
And return to live again from that place
I walked away from so very long ago

A Summer Dive

 Photo: Google Image

I remember swimming
Diving from a granite cliff
Imagining a steady dragonfly
As I try to find
And hold
that perfectly still instant
At the very top of the dive
But time rushes as a river
And casts us back
Into the irresistible draw
Of gravity
Its ever-present truth a triumph
Until we find that momentary chill
in the lake’s full embrace

Winter Mist

This morning’s tide arrived slowly
Bits and pieces of the day gently
Lifted from their slumber
Until the world looks nearly real
The landscape caught by morning’s surprise
Has forgotten details of its own awakening
Under the soft and heavy drape of mist
That hangs still and silent in the air

The space around me is sealed
A glass lid on a glass casserole
And I am on the inside
Soft slaps and plunks of ocean
Here and there played on sandstone
Unravel a string of shoreline
Below my feet
In front of me and beside me

Everything is grey
Still ocean and sleeping sky
Blended into one
Joined across the horizon
Of their forgotten separation
The mist at a distance has become fog
It has eaten all the color
From trees across the bay
And stolen trees completely
From the more distant forest

Ferns and Salal
Hold their breath with me
And listen
To sounds normally lost
Under the ocean’s soft blanket
Of white noise
A stream splashes
And a dipper calls

Even the soft rusty hinge
Of a widgeons wings
Settles on me softly
From somewhere
Inside the damp mist above
Wing beats drifting in the wake
Of that bird’s blind flight
Even my thoughts
Want to chase after birds
This morning

The half splash of a loon
Frightened by its own eerie call
Magnified in the empty silence
Disappears into its own circle
Entering another world
Safe from its own call
But bound by need to be
A shadowed predator
Of others

Passing by

Walking by the river

Watching boats pass by
Noticing their wakes
Carried as waves
Toward the shore
Joining the hull
To the land
So they
Can know
One another
In this landscape
Where everything
Is connected together


Narrow waves
Speak of narrow boats
And wide waves
Speak from wide boats
While our feet
Leave silent footprints
Always touching
But very seldom feeling
This landscape

Forgivness

Walking through
The forest
Sunday afternoon
In moist and quiet air
After the storm

A beaver pond
Leans heavily
Against its stick dam
Half broken
By heavy rains

Broad old trees
Here and there
Some toppled
Some Shattered
By strong winds

A stone path
Leads us
Through trees
Past the pond
To a church
Near the forest

Its rounded roof
Bulging
With singing voices
Pushing
At its walls
Squeezing
Through its roof

A muffled chorus rises
Aimless at the heavens
Hardly penetrating
The forest where we stand
Silent among sword ferns
Welcomed by strong trunks
Of tall and ancient trees

This place among the trees
Is more a cathedral
Than it ever was before
Even when the church
Sat silent - parked
In its own empty lot

Pleased by wind and rain
The tops of living trees
Standing tall above
The rounded roof
Their gentle joyful song
Whispered unending
From high above us
Drifting down
Like autumn mist
Our gratitude rising
Like winter steam

Sweet blessings
Showered from trees
Bathed in love
Even in that moment
Beyond the storm
That took old friends
And changed their world forever
Forgiveness woven
Into their song

Winter Storm

Today was traveled by a storm
That was born during the night
It took hold of the ocean
And tore branches from the forest
Then it came rushing for me
But it could not squeeze through
The narrow gap in my window
Yet it was so full of sound
That it woke me


Early in the morning
I walked through the forest
To a point of land
On the edge of the sea
To meet the storm
White edges of broken water
Along the sharp folds of waves
Were nearly eight feet high
And half a mile long
The waves ran in straight lines
At an angle toward the shore
The surface of the sea was white
And the whole ocean seemed disturbed


I looked out on the water -
Not a single boat
I wondered about the sealions
And the seals and the otters
And the seagulls and eagles
Everything was missing
Or waiting somewhere
For the storm to soften
It just wasn’t happening


I noticed the cove
Just north from where I stood
The water in there
Was quiet - its opening
Was angled so the waves
Passed by without entering
And the wind ran overhead
I thought of that still place within us
That may be rippled on occasion
But can stay steady in the storms
That challenge our own shores
It’s gentle truth invited me to smile
Then reminded me to breathe

Self

All that we are not
And all that lies beyond
Already knows us
As self

One day we will
Greet our self
As those things
Already do

If not here and now
Then beyond
Death’s threshold
Where blindness
Is left behind

Friend and Lover

Friend and Lover

Fused together

Connected

Inseparable

Love and

Integrity

No half

Can survive

Without the other

They need

To live

Together

With us or

Without us

We can not

Separate them

They would both die

Longing for

Honor

Autumn Wind

Today as I walked, I noticed the green cottonwood leaves struggling to hold on to their branches in the strong wind by the river. But the yellow leaves from the upper branches seemed to let go so peacefully. I identified with the greenish leaves that were holding on to their branches and near the end of their useful time to the tree.*

The wind seemed to be very alive today and the leaves existed only in each present moment. There seemed to be no sense of past or future for the leaves. They seemed to hold no memory of ever being a small sweet scented bud and they never experienced emotional attachment to the branch they worked with so intimately through the summer to sustain the tree. When the time came for them to be free from their branch they just let go - full of peace and full of joy with no clue about where they would land or just how they would circle back into life. The tree was helping me understand that a feeling of loss or emotional attachment may be an artifact of memory - and it disappears completely in a present moment that is surrendered to wonder and gratitude.

* Deciduous trees have to let their leaves go as winter approaches because it just takes more energy to sustain them than they are able to produce and the tree would need to run on a deficit of food and water. The very waxy broad leafed arbutus tree and the native rhododendron leaves are both uniquely evergreen in our countryside. The needled trees like fir and hemlock and pine are also evergreen and can keep their needles through the winter as they don't stress the tree's resources too much. But I notice the cedar trees at this time of year - they shunt their wastes into 1 or 2 cedar boughs at the base of most branches which then turn brown and fall away from the tree along with its small cones.

Autumn Wind

Today took me down by the river
The sky was grey and wet
The river was the same
All the colors had run
To leaves on autumn trees
The wind is what I noticed most
It was playing with everything
It was touching everything
The clouds and the river
The raindrops and the grass
And the leaves on the trees
Asking them if they were ready
To surrender their hold
And fly toward the river

The summer sun gone
Green mottling leaves
Past usefulness to their tree
Struggling so hard
To hold on to their branch
In this colorful autumn wind
Slapping their branch and each other
While yellow leaves above peacefully let go
One-by-one or in handfuls
Surrendered to their season
Celebrating their color
With the wind and this moment
No sadness at parting
And no certain destination

Nature's Open Door

At nature’s open door
Apart but not alone
Alone but not lonely
No humans nearby

Emotional colors
Faint echoes
From past voices
Loosely tied
To arrows
Of intention

Silence helps us
Step naked
Into the present
Leaving past voices
Powerless and meaningless
Beyond the open door

Forest Path

Walk slowly
Along the path
In the forest
By the lake

Every step
A destination
Every step
A Starting place

You can leave
The well worn path
Any place you like
The land won't mind

  A hill to climb
  A lake to swim
The path to walk
Just follow the wind

Subtle life emerges
In the forest every Fall
As people with their
Summer notions leave

Listen
To the world
As you tread
On bare earth
Along the forest path

Let your body breathe
Into its own
Sunrise of joy
Knowing that
It’s not alone

Feel the crickets’ ratchet
Your footsteps closer
And then fall silent
As they quietly drift by

A pileated woodpecker
Hammers and shrieks
From a big-leaf maple
While prickly sculpin
Swim silently across
The deaf lake bottom

The world inside is real
And joins the forest
That surrounds me
Inside and outside
Never were separate
Everything here belongs

The land listens
Patiently waiting
To dance with us
To join us in laughter
And carry us through tears
But it can also let us pass
In silence
Blind to its miracle

cabbage moth

Photograph by Stephen Pinkus

Two white butterflies
Fluttering tightly together
Rising from the beach
Across my path
Over a building
Into a world I cannot see
Or even imagine

They must have played
In reeds by the river
And through some way of knowing
Were sent flying together
Without hesitation
Into such a big world
Tying invisible knots
Of joy and freedom
Into tight flight lines

What could they
Possibly know
Of this place
Yet they seem to hold
All they need in their hearts
To find purpose and fulfillment
In these short days
When a cabbage
Can lead to heaven

Gratitude

Do you remember
The experience
Of receiving
A gift

Do you remember
The experience
Of giving
A gift

Do you realize
That you are
The gift
Itself

Journey

Autumn's bright journey
Dreamed under winter snow
Warmed by spring flowers
Loved by summer's breeze

The place I am
Seems the right place
To be standing
Even though
I could be
Anywhere I wish

The fish still come
The snow still falls
The flowers still grow
The summers breeze
Just as they will
When I am gone

Sometimes
When I feel so lost
I let the ocean help me
Arrive and smile in joy
Where I should be
When I should be
I have no other
Way to know

By the River

I made it to an old favorite spot along the river today
I went alone and passed beyond the place
My legs have stopped before
At that bench half-way here that sits alongside the gravel path
Where I can only see the river from a distance
But can clearly feel the people passing by
Words in my head help me understand the people on that path
The river is just a background that they move by
But from here on the eroding edge of the river
I can feel the thunder of the river and smell the wet clay of its banks
I can hear the cottonwood leaves, electric in the breeze, promise new weather
And smell all of the things that are here and all of the things that will come
Under the eagle that stretches high in the sky
Crows and seagulls, close to the ground, welcome the breeze
Waves on the river find their own way to shore not needing to be seen
Sitting in that moment I notice the words in my head
They scatter like birds at being found
They mean no harm and are only there to comfort my mind
It so needed them – just to hide from the pain of being unable to feel
Unable to help me understand the mystery of this place
I cast the empty words away as others before me
Tossed away cigarette butts or chewing gum
Hollow habits that can block the joy or sting of a present moment
A place that is unpredictable and where truth is evident
A place where we cannot hide from what we truly want
A place where longing can take root
Although not rare, a moment is unique and precious
Just for emerging into the light of consciousness
Words will come later when I sit and invite this moment to flutter by again
My mind will help me in that task with all but feelings
They only live within the magic of a wordless moment by the river

Bird Song

Swainson's Thrush photograph by Larry Bond copyright 2005


What bird sings
In this forest
And what branch
Is he perched on

Does he sing
To me
Or call
To another

Horse
And rider
Passes silently through
Forest leaves

Hidden
Among broad trunks
Of quiet
Trees

Protected
Under the blessing
Of a bird's
beautiful song

Winter Morning

photograph by Carl Deal copyright, all rights reserved
http://www.carldealphotography.com/

Ducks in darkness
Glide silently
Perfectly together
Sliding to a stop
On dawn’s heavy pond
Settling to rest
Like two slippers
On a fabric floor

Their soft swash
On the still pond
Draws brash calls
From crows on branches
Tangled in the darkness
Awakening the day
Like a fire stirred to life
From overnight embers

Morning’s light ignites
Its wash of colour
Flooding the eastern sky
Tinting all things their Hue
Black withdraws from all
Except the crow
Who keeps his morning
Colour in his call

A Deeper current

google image

The ocean

Was never afraid
The loose end of its bieng

A dream unseen far beyond

The beginning of time
Long before life

Paid the price to seek

Its own ransom

Mortality, is common
Pennies rolled as money
Every wave spent on its shore
Finds one moment to be heard
To sum up all of its travels
To name all the birds that rode its back
And all the fish that silvered its belly

The water that carries the wave
Is not spent on the shore
The water that carries the wave
Lives without judgment
And returns to the sea
Joyfully offering itself

To each new wave to be
Its body, to be its voice

Unseen to the waves
Are the ocean's tides and currents
Different from its waves
Tides only visit twice each day
But like the waves no two are the same
What we cast onto the ocean
On an outgoing tide
Is pulled apart, inspected and then
Returned to us or stranded
On our neighbor’s beach
While the waters are drawn once again
Through the teeth of the moon

Deeper currents aren’t known from the surface
They are hard to find and harder to visit
They are the engines of the tide

And are never superficial

We can’t just wade into them
Laughing with friends in delight
A false joy that overrides the truth
Spoken by each wave as it finds its shore
Deeper currents demand strength
And courage and commitment
If we want to visit

Sometimes our life seems
Little more than a wave
A grand experience
Ending in a single song
Sung upon our shore

A ripple on a sand bar
Marking us as over
Our watery essence
Returning to the sea
Offers to serve another

To find the deeper current
We must dress to prepare
With a mask and fins and regulator
Taking our own air in a tank
And our own suit to protect us
Dressed in this way
Behind our own mask
We know we are alone

Two divers together
Always have different experiences
Did you see the pair of angel fish?
Did you touch the green sea turtle?
Did you pass by the school of Barracuda?
It is different for everyone
So much to experience
But every so often

I float into knowing
We are not alone

Searching for Silence

Searching for silence
Dreaming of a quiet place
My mind plays
With a warming sun
The view of water
The fragrance of a dry forest
The taste of summer salt
And a mountain stream
Of gentle thoughts

I was wise enough
To trim all tags of obligation
Before I left to find a quiet
Gentle peace in this secret place
Then I drew myself out
From the middle of
A conflicted life

It was my mind
That was tired
Not my soul
Lightened by
Its loss of burden
Mind fell asleep
Exhausted from living
Its own well-wishing
But self-serving lie
Happy to leave this ship
In the hands of my soul
Alone for a moment
On the safe waters
Of a gently ordered nature

After all… what trouble
Could an other-worldly soul stir
On such a quiet and peaceful sea
And within such a familiar harbor
My mind expected
That quiet would come
So it slept soundly and safely
Outside of its storm

But not my soul
I noticed as I found
My peaceful place in nature
That although my stream
Of gentle thoughts
Seemed real enough
Before I arrived
It was as fixed as a written book
When floated against
The unrehearsed will
Of an authentic living world

A world that stood up
From its quiet seat of tiredness
To let the wind play the trees
Then push past my body
Hurrying with excitement
To answer its own question
That was rushed from the breath
Of a rising sky of cedars
Grouped at the edge of my yard
The wind ran by to
The orange colored lilies
Growing in the planted garden
Their faces new to the world

The wind had only this moment
To let the lilies answer the trees
In their very own way
With the voice
That the wind brought for them

No other moment
Could have answered this question
No other moment
Could have offered the same truth

Songs of birds were fit
Into the music of the landscape
Joining the conversation
Just where they belonged
Even the dry flutter
Of a red dragon fly
Was important to the piece
Each found note unique
In its purpose and its sound
Nothing wanting
And nothing wasted

I probably missed
More than I heard
And not knowing just when
A bird’s song would come
Or how it would arrive
Or what it would say
Never diminished the joy
That shimmered upon
Its unannounced arrival

For the first time ever
I didn’t long for a scripted
Flow of gentle thought
That painted a false world
For me to see
A place for me to die

Instead the music
Just became louder,
More full, more complex
And more magic
Until no voice
Could possibly be heard
Beside or within the music
In this peaceful and alive place
Where I found my own heartbeat
And my own breathing
Had joined this perfect music
Playing together with it
As if they had never
Been apart

Forest Vine

Everything is connected
Each word each leaf
Each poem drawn
And held together
By the thread
Of our own experience
And the longing of
Our own soul
To follow the vine
Back to its root

Even just to find it
Growing tangled
On a forest floor
A living string
Connecting all things
That we know together
Breathes possibility
Back into our dream
Of returning home
To find it lit
By our own heart

If we are lucky
A forest vine can be lifted
Cleanly, unbroken
And laid upon a page
As a painting, a poem
Or a song
There for all to see
Or hear and follow
For just as long
As its leaves stay green

There is nothing
As frustrating
As a vine found whole
But too fragile
To be withdrawn
From the weeds and grass
That lock it to the forest's floor
Hiding both the origin
And the destination
Of that vine from view

Bits and pieces
Of our unified truth
Stretched and broken
By an expectant pull
Silently denies the continuity
Of this simple miracle
The one that brought us
To where we stand now
Holding the broken vine
Unable to grow or change
In this moment
Unable to fuse itself
Back together again
Unable to lead us back home

Soldier

artist: Ben Houstie 1995

How did you ever come to carry such a heavy pack
And why did they send you out to walk alone
Dressed in camouflage on such a very hot day
To walk along a path that follows our peaceful city’s beach
Where children play
Where adults invite warm sun and pleasant thoughts
To sooth their bodies and their minds
I forgot that our country is at war
130 have died in Afghanistan
Children is who they really are
No older than my own son
Why when there are so many lost items
Of real value to the soul must we fight till death?
It just buries what is lost even deeper than before

I am so sorry for my friends
Who are parents to children
And for their children who have died
Keeping this place; this land free
My heart is sad for that
As if it were my own child
That has been lost from view
And from change forever
You soldier; are so alone and you are so brave
In this burdened hike you make
Alone with your thoughts
I wonder what you think of me

Suspended

A thread so thin
A force so subtle
How can I know
If it really exists

Unable to see
Over the top
Unwilling to plumb
To the very bottom

I hang
Suspended
Between time
And timeless

My shoulder
Touching others
Instantly knowing
Unable to pretend

Bubbles of emotion
Lift me
Toward the surface
Of this pond

Arriving
Just where the pond
Was shivered
By a whispered breeze

Drawn out
By the smiling sun
Cradled in its arms
And set down into life

On a jamb packed train
Of joy and pain
Accelerating
From start to finish

Flowering me
A new color
A new shape
As intended

The same question
That drew us into life
Becomes the stream
That carries us back

Into the pond
Where our center
Joins again
With all others

Is our truth
Quiet and strong
Or do emotions still
Lean upon us

The answer
Resting deep
Within us is clear
For all to know

Experience

A hallway of doors
Each one closed
Upon a life experience
That awaits us
In darkened rooms
Our pockets fashioned
Of curiosity and longing
Hold a growing fist of keys
Markers of experience
Doors that have been opened
And others yet to be

Happiness and sadness
Anger and fear
Pride and jealousy
Embarrassment and joy
All ingredients of life
Colors of lighted rooms
Each door unlocked
By an open heart
That fashioned keys
On a cutting wheel of longing
Pockets that jingle with intention
To use if we choose

To open a door is easy
Once we hold its key
The rooms rest quiet and unlit
So that all we can do is smell
The universe that lives behind them
Then choose to enter or leave
Each threshold is the same
Fashioned of a wood
Hewed from the forest
Of our own vulnerability
Each door leads
To a new and deeper place

Some of the rooms may lie
Beyond our own mortality
Yet if we find the courage
To grasp the lesson of that place
To know the truth that lives within that room
It will belong to us forever
And travel with us always
To light the world we walk in
Some experiences are pleasant
Some are not but each one shapes us
As a chisel fashions rock

How many keys
Our longing fashions
How many doors
We dare to open
And how many rooms
We choose to enter
Is always up to us

Anxious

Anxious

Anxious to be calm
I just seek a place to sit
And to rest here on a seat
That seems so safely settled on the ground
But something I can’t see
And something I can't know
Just grasped me where I stand
So now I know I am found

What is missing
What has changedHas it always been this way
No familiar point of reference
As my compass simply spins
And the light is quickly draining from the day
Somehow I know I’ll follow
A moon of intuition through the night
Letting go of an old and storied past
To embrace an unknown future
That waits shining in the stars

Excited

I don't know
Where I came from
I don't know
Where I am going
But my whole heart knows
That I am here
Now
Standing
In the middle of a miracle
It sparkles in the air

Salmon

The River carries silt
In her belly during freshet
Hiding the fish
She holds as children
Until they cross
Their natal threshold
And enter a darkness
Between the worlds
Of fresh and salt

A fresh water past
May be lost for a lifetime
Unless the salmon is lucky enough
To survive and find and follow
The sweet thread of its river
That can lead it back
To the gravel bed
Where the salmon emerged
Into the fresh and clear water
Beneath a mother's belly

Just as silt filters
Through her fingers
And settles onto muddy banks
At freshet’s waning breath
Most of the river's fish are lost
Before they return to spawn
And so, circle back into life
In some other way

We so often fail to see
That most of the fish
That seemed to slip
Through life’s fingers
Still fulfilled
Some other purpose
And honored their river
In some other way


Just as there are a thousand times and places for a particle of silt to settle from its river - there are a thousand ways a soul can honor life

Flowering plum

Today
Is one of those
Warm sunny spring days
That spills on the ground
Around
The waving shadows
Of flowering plums



Plum blossom's
Gentle fragrance
Gathers
To perfume warm sunny air
As cool smelling shadows
Rest below
On freshly watered grass

Self comfort

Rest your head on my arm
Close your eyes
Don’t let your silky breath
Catch on the rough edges
Of past experience
Or on the jagged fears
Of an unknown future
Neither knows this moment

I am here to hold you
To let you feel
Your own love
To let you know
You are not alone
To help you want
These moments of breathing
The sweet breath of my words

You are loved
And the rawness you feel
Guides you back
Toward an older
And higher family
That loved you enough
To let you come here
In the first place
And tread on a slippery
Surface above your pain

The beauty
Of this world
Lives in the freedom
That we hold
To deny its existence
Or to visit it if we need
Or to live in it every day
With every breath
In joy and in pain

Life will not judge our choice
And no choice must tilt the pan
More or less than any other
And no choice holds the will
To only be wrong
But after a time
Refusing to choose
Is like holding our breath
Just to spite the sweet wind
That caresses our face

A soft voice says
You will know
When it is time
To lay down
Your breath
So for now
You must practice
Living and not dying
For just as long
As your wind whispers