Rhetoric

I wonder if rhetoric works a bit like fog; 

Takes something that’s is actually 

 Untidy and disorganized 

And casts a light upon it 

That makes it seem somehow 

Rational and appealing…

Resistance

I wish I had the resistance of this leaf; 

That the disappointments in the daily news 

Would not infect my mood, 

But simply roll off, 

Like beads of water on a waxy leaf. 

But that, of course, would mean 

I could not feel — not just the pain of others 

But the joy of parental love, 

Of sunsets and shadows, 

Of creating and embracing; 

Of watching nature evolve through the seasons…

We are the light

That which you see, looming over us, 

Is both the future and our past: 

We are the light that can choose to guide 

The weary travelers home again; 

 Out of the shadows and back into 

 A kinder, gentler world 

Whose denizens take care of one another: 

Tend the sick, soothe the suffering, 

Pity the afflicted, bless the dying 

And shield all those 

Who’ve found their way to Joy.

When storm clouds loom

How do you react when the storm clouds loom? 

Do you run for cover, stand by a window, 

Or rush outside, hoping to feel the wind in your hair; Hoping to dance in the rain? 

Because there’s always another storm 

Waiting around the corner, 

And you might want to try something different…

Colorful

We rejoice upon seeing 

A tree with many colors. 

How can we not welcome 

A community of many colors?

Light and shadow

How amazing is it, 

That when light and shadow combine, 

The simplest scene takes on 

Both mystery and beauty. 

When will we learn to appreciate 

 That uniformity doesn’t necessarily imply 

Perfection?

Reliance

Morning, 

And the ferries ply their trade 

Among the islands of the north, 

Carrying children to their schools 

And commuters to their jobs 

While others seek vacations 

Or must travel for medical care. 

And all the travelers rely upon 

A handful of workers 

Who rise early and work overtime, 

That the ferries might run safely, 

And on time.

In black and white

Some scenes just render better In black and white, 

Just like some answers are true or false. 

That said, those shades of gray can add 

A revealing complexity in both photos and decisions: 

Be wary of judgments 

That don’t take them into consideration.

Hard Choices

Conditioned by one of the worst 

Wildfire seasons in our state’s history, 

I assumed this plume of smoke 

Seen from a distant island 

Meant we weren’t done yet, 

Despite the recent rains, 

But no, it’s just our paper mill, 

Which, these days, is a burning issue, 

But that’s a fire of a different sort, 

In which attempts to protect the lives of workers 

 May mean risking their jobs. Hard choices…

Contradiction

What is it about us humans, 

That we treasure the opportunity 

 To collect that which is rare

 (Like waiting for this light to turn red 

When it mostly glows white) 

Yet are so quick to demonize 

Whichever folks are rarest 

In our communities; 

To pound down whichever nails 

Appear to stick up or stand out?

This island life

It seems idyllic, this island life; 

To sail amid the gulls and whales 

And live the quiet rural life 

Away from the busyness and noise 

Distractions and demands the city brings, 

Until the disadvantages — 

The lack of jobs and health care 

And other limitations 

 That can complicate island existence — 

Begin to overwhelm the joys: 

 What then?

Try a little tenderness

I watch the tenderness of the doe 

With her now five-month-old fawn 

And it awakens the same tenderness in me 

That I feel watching my daughter 

With her new kittens, replacements 

After her beloved old tabby passed: 

That longing to see humanity 

Caring for other humans 

As thoughtfully and gently 

As we care for our pets.

Loving fog

I love the otherworldliness of fog; 

I always have: the way 

 The inconsequential becomes mystical 

And distracting backgrounds disappear, 

And how I always seem to have that beauty 

All to myself, while the rest of the world 

Shelters indoors...

Tender reminders

After several days of fog — 

You can still see remnants of it, 

There on the right — 

It was doubly glorious 

To see the mountain revealed again

 At the base of a magnificent sunrise, 

As if we’d met someone who reminded us 

How strong and blessed we truly are 

And brought out the best in us.

Perception

What catches your eye? 

The criss-cross of power lines, 

The mountains, or the trees? 

Each has a role to play 

While masking the lagoon 

That lies hidden in their midst. 

What seems obvious to one 

May seem less so to another 

Or pale compared to facts not known to all…

 I’m grateful for the journalists 

Who care more about the truth 

Than sensational self-service.

Look east!

Yet another gentle reminder 

To take a moment to look east 

When the sun is setting in the west. 

Nature, like a magician, 

Often allows the showy stuff, 

The sparkles and sequins of the natural world, 

To distract us from her subtleties 

And sleight of hand…

A change of attitude

What if we were to greet 

Each person, place, or thing that we encounter 

As a treasure; a gift meant to bring joy, 

A possible adventure Or a learning opportunity 

That only needs to be unwrapped to be revealed?

Tried and True

I know.

 I’m a little banged up, 

A little rough around the edges, 

And my ropes are a bit frayed, 

And badly stained, 

But I can still get you wherever you need to go, 

Just as smoothly as I ever did. 

And have you noticed how much beauty 

There is in the tried and true?

Love letter from the wild

Upon seeing the shapely curves of this wild weed Displayed among the grass and thistles, 

One might mentally complete 

Those gracious arcs into hearts 

And see them as a love letter, 

Carved by nature and intended 

To reward all those who take the time 

To appreciate the humble beauty in the ordinary…

Return to center

This is it, the center, 

That deep and quiet place 

Where we take ourselves 

When we need to get in touch 

With what is right and true; 

When we need to nurse our wounds 

Or send out comfort for the wounds of the world. 

Sit here a while; rest, and restore.

Autumnal flowers

As autumn colors steal into the trees, 

We drink in the simple pleasure 

Of wildflowers by the waterside 

And grasses grown green again, 

Fed by September mist and fog, 

All signs that winter waits 

Just around the corner.