Rest and restore

Let today be a day 

Where you and your troubles 

Find a place in the shade 

Beside still waters 

To rest, and restore your soul.

Open to the light

Like the daisies, 

 We need to open our hearts to the light…

Time to release

All too clearly, we remember 

Cutting things that were said. 

Those painful words lie gathering rust 

On the shelves of our souls: 

Perhaps it’s time to recycle them; 

Let them teach us what we needed 

To learn about ourselves, 

Then blunt their edges 

 And release them — let it go, let it go.

Beneath the skin

We are, each of us, such complex beings, 

And so often unaware 

That beneath the wounds and scars 

That color our personalities 

We might find a different color altogether.

 What if we were to peel 

Our prejudicial assumptions back? 

Could we learn to trust again,

 Or would the vulnerability prove our undoing?

What resonates?

What is it about this image 

That awakens an echo, deep within? 

So many possibilities… 

Stop, look, and listen to your heart: 

What resonates? 

 What is it that you’re craving?

Surviving on the edge

If you have ever wondered 

Why those folks who used to be your friends 

Are clinging so intensely to assumptions 

That seem one step from disastrous, 

Just be aware that the only way to survive 

In so challenging an environment 

Is for them to be really really deeply rooted. 

To question anything might feel life-threatening.

Perspectives and opportunities

Whether you are inside looking out

Or outside looking in

May depend more on context and perspective

Than on actual exclusion.

Both offer opportunities for learning.

Time to rest

Imagine yourself to be lying 

In a field fragrant with lavender, 

Looking up at a blue sky peopled 

With fluffy clouds in exotic shapes. 

Breathe deeply, and rejoice: 

Another week is done and it’s time to rest.

Independent thinkers

In a topsy turvey higgledy piggledy world, 

Where all the grays seem to be evolving 

Into black and white 

We bravely fly our flag 

Of independent both/and thinking 

In an earnest effort to hold it all together.

The spirit within

Just as the lighthouse, shrouded in fog, 

Still sends and sounds her beacon of safety,

 The loving spirit that brought us here 

Continues to reside within us, 

Offering its guidance when we need it — 

If we listen.

An echo of stillness

Who needs a crown of gold and jewels, 

A fancy car or mega yacht? 

Give me the simple pleasure 

Of a clean white boat on a still blue sea: 

The clarity of those perfectly reflected lines 

Awakens a calming echo of stillness 

Within my troubled heart.

Beauty as we age

Even as age slowly leaches 

Color from these petals, 

 They continue in their mission of beauty. 

Do not assume, when glory fades, 

That nothing’s left behind: 

As the subtle striations of character are exposed, 

We find they have an appeal that’s all their own.

The gift of contrast

Dark shadows frame the dying light,

A tracery of black against 

The colors of the sky. 

So, too, the darker moments and events 

Of our lives provide a framework 

That enhances our appreciation 

Of all that’s good and beautiful in life.

Resonance

Beach roses joyfully announce 

 Summer’s arrival; 

Each day some new pink blooms, 

Replace the old, then quickly pass away 

Until there are none left to bloom, 

The bushes green again with loss 

Until we realize each one-day wonder 

Leaves behind its fruit to slowly redden, 

And where before we only saw, each day, 

A single flower, now there are clusters 

 Of glory, ripening rosily among the branches,

 Reminding us a single moment, gone, 

May leave behind effects 

Whose resonance is multiplied 

 In unexpected ways.

Sharing the sunrise

Why is it that the sunrise 

 Gives us so much pleasure? 

Is it the light? The color? 

The promise of a new day? 

The ever changing patterns in the clouds? 

Whatever the reason, it feels like a blessing, 

And one we are delighted to be sharing 

With all those who are awake.

A long time coming to fruition

After a long wet spring, 

Our cherries have finally begun to ripen 

But they look a little bruised, 

As if the long birth process 

Has left them a little damaged. 

We, too, when things don’t come to fruition 

 As quickly as we’d hoped, 

Can begin to feel a little beaten by the process, 

But no worries: in the end, 

The results will still be sweet!

Awakened by a poem

Perhaps in longing for You 

 I lost my place. 

My feet fell out of the sky, 

And now I’m on my knees, 

Peering through these branches at the moon; 

Wondering what might have been, if only…

Connection to the deep

Low tide, and the boats 

Are safely anchored far from shore, 

Lest they founder on the rocks 

When the wind begins to rise. 

We, too, with time, have come to learn

That connection to the deep within 

Can offer more stability in rough weather.

In gratitude

The colors of the sunset 

Have their echoes in my garden: 

Each new day, a sweet surprise.

 So grateful for whoever planted these…

What we see

So much of what we see — or think we see — 

Is conditioned by experience and expectations, 

Which means our observations and opinions 

Are always colored by the filters 

Through which we view the world. 

And so where I might see a continent 

Torn apart by dissension, 

You might see a fish, or a horse, running free,

Or something else altogether.

Which is why I paint without intention 

And allow the painting to shape itself 

On the chance it might have different messages 

For different viewers.

Time to break away

Yes. This is one of those precious days; 

An opportunity for you to break away. 

Grab your paddle and push that canoe 

 Out into the water, take off your shoes, 

Step in, and seat yourself, 

 And glide off into the blue, 

If only in your dreams: 

It’s time to be free-floating 

In something other than anxiety.

People of faith

There are those of us who continue, 

Despite the threat of coming storms, 

To appreciate what’s left of a sunny outlook; 

Who stay the course, basking 

In the last of the light, 

And trust that the worst will blow over. 

The world may call us optimistic fools; Pollyannas, 

But we know ourselves to be people of faith.

Humbled by the majesty

Who would not be humbled by the majesty 

Offered to us each evening 

On the platter of the sky? 

Stop. Sit. Breathe. 

Let the colors wash over you 

And be filled with gratitude.

Shared experience

We watch from our ferry, heading home, 

As another ferry passes, heading back 

To the port from whence we came, 

Bearing people — some back home, 

Some to work, some for visits, 

 Some for dinner or to theaters— 

So many humans living so many lives, 

Each carried safely to and fro 

By a mostly invisible crew, 

All grateful now to be out, about, and employed 

After the long CoVid hiatus. 

I wish this experience we’ve all shared 

Had somehow brought us closer...

Blessing, undeserved

Our calla lilies spread themselves 

Across the length of two gardens, 

Their pure, serene faces beaming 

And their wide leaves fanning out to cup the rain 

As we finally tiptoe into summer — 

A blessing, like so many, 

We’ve done little to cultivate or deserve…

Perils of perfectionism

Yes, it’s just a trick of the light, to be sure, 

But if I correct the perspective 

 Of the lighthouse in this photo, 

That amazing cloud slides right out 

 Of the frame — and isn’t that just like life? 

You try to correct one thing 

And risk losing something else — 

A frequent side effect, I find, 

Of the quest for perfection. 

In so many arenas — organizations, our homes, 

Communities, and especially as parents — 

We need to strike a balance between 

Constantly pushing for improvement 

 And appreciating what is, here and now.

Assumptions

I cannot know what my cat thinks 

As she watches the birds so intently: 

She could be wishing to chase and play, 

Or longing to catch and eat, 

Or simply wishing she could fly 

Free among the branches, and on the wind. 

She might not be looking at the birds at all, 

But eyeing a squirrel in the tall grass 

Over by the fence. 

Is she grateful for the glass that keeps her safe, 

Or does she resent it, and wish that it were gone? 

Though we learn to make assumptions, 

We can never know another’s thoughts 

 For sure unless they tell us and we listen, 

Any more than we can understand 

Our own motivations unless we stop 

And ask ourselves, and make time to listen…

Declare your independence

To declare our independence 

 Is to say that we have value, and are more than: 

More than subjects, objects, or slaves; 

More than our imperfections and insecurities; 

More than what we have or haven’t accomplished; 

More than our diseases or disabilities; 

More than where we live or what we own; 

More than what we were taught to believe; 

More than our heritage, our nationality,

Or the color of our skin; 

More than all the shoulds and the illusions 

That keep us from becoming our fullest selves. 

From what will you now declare 

 Your independence?

Patience rewarded

When we first moved in, we weren’t aware 

This rose bush even existed: 

She’d climbed up into a holly tree, 

And what blooms she had 

 Were hidden in its branches, 

 Twenty feet above the ground. 

A wise and kindly gardener 

 Noticed a few telltale petals 

 That had fallen to the grass, and cut her back; 

There were no promises she’d survive. 

The next year we found foot-high sprouts 

Spread throughout the garden, 

But no blooms. In an act of faith, 

We put a fence around them all 

To protect them from the deer, 

And this year she has rewarded us 

 With a garden full of blossoms — 

A gentle reminder that the three P’s — 

Pruning, Protection, and, above all, Patience — 

May be vital components for healthy growth.

Past supporting future

I love the way that last year’s leaves 

Create a perfect frame for the leaves to come. 

I’d like to think that life works that way, too; 

Not just that we who are parents do our best 

To create a healthy framework 

In which our children might grow 

 To their best selves, 

But that all that’s gone before in our lives 

Serves to foster and support 

 What’s now and new and growing into being.

Try getting closer

That which, from a distance, 

Was just a narrow strip of color 

Between two clouds 

Becomes a glorious tapestry 

When brought closer

 Through the magic of a telephoto lens — 

Just as a group of people, perhaps 

A different race or nationality, 

Might seem to become more human, 

More appreciated, if we come closer; 

Get to know them as individuals.

 A cliche, I suppose, but how else 

Can we encourage and inspire folks 

To stop treating others 

As somehow less than human?