Thursday, October 17, 2024

Earth as a sacred text


All of earth is a sacred text 
That heaven keeps transcribing; 
Each cloud an invitation 
 Steeped in divine revelation.

Wednesday, October 16, 2024

The zigzag path


What is it about a zigzag that’s so appealing? 
Though a straight line might be simpler, 
The choice to provide an angled path 
Allows for a gentler slope, 
More room for those who stand and wait, 
And a longer opportunity 
 For those have to bid farewell 
To watch their loved ones walk away; 
To adjust to that inevitable departure…

Tuesday, October 15, 2024

Mothering


On looking at these rocks, 
I see the essence of mothering — 
The embrace; the safe harbor we provide, 
From which others may explore their creativity, 
Build strong yet flexible foundations 
From which they launch 
Their journeys into the world. 
We form a nest around the water 
 That will always be their home 
To which they always can return 
For rest and healing…

Monday, October 14, 2024

A brief interruption


The cat’s been sleeping contentedly in my lap, 
But suddenly I look up and notice 
The blaze of sunrise, 
 Reflected in the double panes before me, 
So I gently push him off and step outside, 
To capture that bright glory, 
Disturbing the lame and tailless raccoon 
Who’s been enjoying his morning snack 
On the deck outside my door. 
Though I’m sad to disturb the animals,
 I know they’ll be back when I return to my chair, 
And, oh, the vision before me was so worth it! 
Only moments later, all that color has now gone, 
The sky is uniformly gray, 
And the cat is once again sleeping on my lap, 
As if it never happened… 
And what (my husband would ask) 
Have you learned from this? 
(Our children threaten to engrave that question 
On his tombstone.) 
A quote hovers somewhere in my brain,
Though I can’t seem to find its source:
So fast, so short, and then so quickly gone…

Sunday, October 13, 2024

When nature unites us


When the bright flame of sky 
Ignites the water 
All our neighbors gather at the cliff,
 Ooh-ing and ah-ing in harmony 
With those gathered on the beach below, 
Each capturing the moment 
On their phones to share with friends 
While Mother Nature smiles quietly to herself, 
Pleased, as any mother would be,
 To see her children sharing and getting along…

Saturday, October 12, 2024

Enchanted


I can’t help it: I’m enchanted. 
I’m enchanted every year: 
Those are not my favorite colors — 
Not the ones I paint with, anyway — 
But I’m so drawn to their magnificence — 
Or could it be the process? 
 That ability to set aside your green; 
To throw on this bright cloak of many colors; 
To dance in it upon the wind, 
One last hurrah before you slowly 
Fade to brown and fall 
Without regrets, 
Having rejoiced together 
 With your friends, your fellow leaves,
 You now let go, 
 And drop into eternal oneness.

Friday, October 11, 2024

The pulse of fruition


What if, like the bees, the work we do — 
Whatever it may be 
 That was given us to accomplish —
 Is part of some larger pulse of fruition 
That we, here, are too small to understand; 
What if, like the butterfly, 
The flap of whose wings 
 Spins a tornado into motion 
On the other side of the world, 
The choices we make, to do or not do, 
Have repercussions we could never begin 
To comprehend in the larger course of history?