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.

Dreaming of Thoreau

Having been a huge fan of Thoreau in my youth, 

It’s no wonder that I’m drawn to scenes such as this:

 A lonely cottage on a pond, 

The sweet daydream of introverts everywhere…

Jump into the light!

There it is again, that invitation 

To somehow find your way through the weeds 

And step onto your next stop for adventure. 

Will you be dragging along your boat, 

Or will you just jump into the light?

Moonslide

Like my camera, the branches 

Attempt to capture the moon, 

But only briefly succeed 

Before she eludes their grasp 

To begin her long slow slide into the sea.

Mountain revealed

The delicate pastel shades 

Of the mountain in the morning 

Are a gift to all who might chance to be 

Awake at that early hour, 

As the mountain disappears shortly thereafter.

The echo of old songs

I see this ship pass by, 

In the silence of an evening sky, 

And that phrase, “A thousand people, maybe more” 

Comes into my head.

It takes a minute to remember where it’s from, 

And that, no, It’s TEN thousand people, maybe more, People talking without speaking, 

People hearing without listening… 

Amazing, how those lyrics 

Still echo through the years…