Blue skies

Yesterday the sky was blue; 

Today it’s awash with clouds and gray, 

Which is not to say that makes the world

 Less beautiful, though possibly 

 Less distracting — either way,

 There’s still work to be done:

 A lawn to mow, a garden to weed, 

A poem to write, a protest to be made. 

Gray skies make it easier to do; 

A blue sky makes me long to stop and be.

In wildness is the preservation…

How is it 

 That some of the prettiest flowers in my yard 

Are not the ones we planted so carefully, 

But the ones that grow wild, 

In spite of all our labors?

Precious gifts

Nature presents us with so much beauty. 

How is it that so many people 

Can be so careless 

 With her precious gifts to us?

Window to the soul

If eyes are windows to the soul, 

Then what can a broken window tell us 

About what we see in its reflections? 

Are the parts that are boarded up 

To remind us of our blindness? 

And where the glass reflects: 

Is that because so much of what we see 

Is just projections and reflections 

Of ourselves? 

And that one small chance we have 

 To see through to the other side: 

Why is it so dark? What are we missing?

Fear of the future

It’s hard, when the sky looks like this, 

Not to be thinking of smoke and flames:

 It feels like a harbinger of wildfires to come. 

While surely it’s wise to be wary, 

Don’t let fear of the future detract 

 From the wonder of Now.

Delicious

The sky has been so beautiful 

 Both last night and this morning 

That though I know 

 I should save some for the future 

I cannot seem to choose just one 

To share with you.

 Like a chocolate cake or potato chips, 

Just a taste is never enough!

Noticing

All the choices that we made 

Whether wise or foolish 

Have brought us to this moment now: 

Standing here, beside the car, 

Preparing to leave, 

Watching as this bird pauses briefly on this branch. 

Now is all there is; This brief, precious connection, 

Until she flies away. 

Be present. Notice. Breathe.