Sunday, July 14, 2024

Loss and growth

How direct his gaze! 
The curiosity and intelligence, 
The magnificence of his antlers, 
Still fuzzy from regrowth — 
Antlers which get removed in fall, 
Returning, larger than ever 
 In the spring… 
Here, too, loss and rebirth 
Have become a fact of life, 
Yet still we humans balk at change and loss, 
Despite the growth each shift in being promises.

Saturday, July 13, 2024

Web of disconnection

I fear that we are caught
In a tangled web of disconnection,
Where the essential characteristics
Of humanity that link us, each to each,
And to our natural surroundings 
Lead us not to integration and community;
To the common ground that unites us all,
But rather to division;
A dead end that leaves our shattered selves
Flattened, isolated, broken,
And unable to resist the larger forces
That threaten to ride roughshod over all.
How can we begin to blur
That deep groove that divides us
And focus on exposing 
The  bonds that flow between us:
Restoring our awareness
Of all the ways we are alike, 
The depth and the magnitude
Of the concerns that we share,
And the spirit that enlivens  
Each and every precious atom of creation.

Friday, July 12, 2024

Profusion of nature

The sheer, exuberant fluffiness 
Of this bush draws my attention:
 Evocative of everything 
 From bridal showers to winter snow, 
It speaks to the profusion, 
 The infinite generosity 
With which nature showers us. 
 Blessings everywhere.

Thursday, July 11, 2024

Cerulean illusion

The island creeps like a turtle 
Across the field of blue, 
Slowly working its way 
 Toward an almost indistinguishable horizon; 
Soft stripes of light and color blend 
To send it on its way — 
A cerulean illusion of progress, 
But isn’t that often true?
 That we can progress most handily 
By simply standing still and noticing 
The currents that surround us?

Wednesday, July 10, 2024


Another night has passed, 
And the sun greets me, 
Dragging itself reluctantly 
Up from its bed on the other side 
Of the mountain, 
 Pushing through the clouds and fog 
Of morning — but no, that’s me, projecting 
My own exhaustion and morning fog 
Onto the consistent, cheerful, reliability 
 Of the sun. 
When will I finally grasp 
That everything I see is colored by 
 The lens of my own experience?

Tuesday, July 9, 2024

Aqua reveille

Late day sun ignites my garden greens 
As the lilies trumpet their aqua reveille, 
Calling all the stars to prepare 
For their nightly act. 
The deer tuck themselves in
Beneath the trees and beside my porch 
As the night sky fades to midnight blue— 
Another day of healing comes to an end.

Monday, July 8, 2024


The evening sunset decorates 
 The fig trees outside my window 
With reflections from the other 
Windows in the room: 
Layers upon layers 
Piled together in a pleasing collage 
Of colors, textures, and light. 
There is no need to burn our eyes
 Looking at the sun; 
It makes its presence known, like love, 
By brightening the surfaces around us.