Reassurance

This morning, as I watch you drive away, 

Praying, as always, for your safe return, 

I turned to see the water, almost still, 

Reflecting cloud formations rich with color. 

Nature’s beauty always reassures me.

No judgement

The flowers don’t compare or judge each other, 

Rejecting one another because 

Their centers are too large or small; 

Too red or gold; their stems too short or tall; 

Their petals are too curved or straight; 

Too open or too closed. 

Instead they cluster together, 

Welcoming both rain and sun, 

Their shape and color bringing joy to all.

Coexistence

However annoyed I get with this aging buck 

For chasing the doe around our yard, 

Eating our plants, and sharpening 

His horns on our trees, 

There’s something about watching him 

Dose in the afternoon sun, 

Just a few feet from my window, 

That moves me. 

I wish all the world 

Found it this easy to coexist.

Generosity of spirit

This is how I grew up, 

Thinking things were meant to be: 

The large sheltering the small, 

The powerful defending the weak, 

The wealthy finding ways to help the poor. 

When did generosity of spirit 

Become designated as violent and evil?

Echoes of Universal losses

Returning home from our evening walk, 

We came home to find this California quail 

Lying on the ground by our front steps — 

Presumably having accidentally 

 Flown into a window. 

We were crushed: we love the quail 

Who scamper daily across our lawn: 

The curious sounds they make, 

The way their headfeathers bounce, 

And their devotion to their families, 

And we ache for the loss 

This one’s children must be feeling; 

The losses children everywhere

Are feeling daily.

Light in darkness

I can no longer kneel with ease, 

So my garden has grown tangled, 

A no man’s land of thistles and holly, 

Dying branches and invasive grasses, 

Nettles and Euphorbia — 

So many plants that sting when touched… 

When you, helping my neighbor 

Repair his fence, offered to help me, too, 

I wanted to cry, and now, 

Though we can barely communicate, 

I see you kneeling amid the thorns, 

 So carefully creating space 

 Around the roses, Oregon grape, and rhodies; 

See how you wipe the sweat from your brow 

And stroke the aging willow’s branch 

And smile, and say, the tree: 

The tree is beautiful, yes? 

A light in darkness; An answer to my prayer.

Finding inspiration

Something about this beautiful entrance 

Calls to me each time I see it, 

And I can’t help but wonder what’s inside. 

But we humans — particularly artists — 

Are often misled or distracted by appearances: 

 Over time, we must learn 

To turn admiration into inspiration, not to envy.