In gratitude for forethought

Having moved from New England

To a region where deciduous trees are rare,

 I am grateful every autumn 

 For the thoughtful folks who planted these

 For the delight of generations yet unborn.

Rest in the Divine

Sunday is like the lap of the week: 

A place where we, like cats, curl up 

And safely rest in the arms of the Divine…

On boundaries

I am thinking this morning about boundaries, 

And how important they can be — 

Not (as we often assume) 

To shut people out or protect us, 

But as a way to guide and foster growth; 

To reduce distracting elements in our lives, 

And focus our attention 

 On the path to which we’re called.

When the weather shifts

Listening to the pounding wind 

And the rain on the roof, 

Is it any wonder that the images I’m drawn to 

Speak of summer and still waters? 

However late the winter weather arrives — 

And it was at least a month delayed this year — 

It’s still an adjustment. 

We put away our summer clothes 

And move the hoses to the shed, 

Knowing it’ll be many months 

Until we drag them out again, 

Then learn again to bundle up and settle in, 

Grateful to be warm and dry 

When so many, less fortunate, are not…

As the day begins

As the day begins, breathe deep, 

 And listen for the words in your heart: 

 How might you best serve the world today?

Enjoy the ride

By now we know 

What lies at the end of the road,

 If not how it befalls us — 

All the more reason 

To slow things down a bit;

 Make time to appreciate 

 The scenery along the way.

Summer memories

As the skies begin to fade to winter gray 

And my grass turns brown, 

I rejoice in the memory of summer’s flowers: 

The bright joy with which they greeted the world 

 Makes my heart sing with gladness.

Appreciate simplicity

Having once lived through tumultuous times, 

We learn to appreciate boring: 

The simple pleasure of a gray-blue sky, 

Littered with fluffy clouds, 

Sharp verticals of tall grass, 

Not needing to be cut, 

Waves splashing on the rocks and beach, 

A seagull’s salt-scented cry 

 And the reassuring promise of a distant shore — 

All balm to the troubled soul.

A day to rest and breathe

Sunday is a perfect day 

To step away from your to-do list 

And take some time to appreciate 

 The simple things: the patterns and the colors 

Of the leaves that will soon fall, 

The play of light among the branches, 

The lichen; the texture of the bark… 

Let your heart rest 

 In the shedding of what’s done; 

Breathe in the passing beauty 

 Of what’s now and what’s to come, 

And know peace.

Childhood memories

I confess: I’ve an addiction 

 To the rural countryside: 

Having grown up next to a farm 

(On the edge of suburbia) 

The sights, scents, and sounds 

Of cows or horses in a field 

Remind me of the happy place we called home. 

But what about the children 

 Who grow up in a battle zone? 

Will they find comfort 

 In the sights, scents, and sounds 

 Of violence?

Fallen

Like love, from that single stem, 

Her speckled skirts spread far and wide 

And glittered with reminders, 

Not just of tears and rain, but a life well-lived; 

Of hearts broken open and scarred; 

Of darkness, and the warmth of flames and sun; 

Of the mix of sorrow and rejoicing 

That accompanies each one of us until 

We fall back to the ground 

From which we’ve sprung.

Fresh air

Smoke levels in the valley 

I drove through yesterday 

 Are at record highs: 

 Amazing, when you consider 

 How far away the fires are. 

It’s yet another reminder 

Of how closely we’re all connected, 

And how a single choice or action 

Can have such huge repercussions. 

Be careful out there, keep breathing, 

And take a moment to appreciate 

 What fresh air you may have.

As the storm clouds gather

Looking out as the winter storm clouds gather 

Over all you have so carefully been tending, 

It’s hard not to wonder what will survive. 

But you have done your work, my friend, 

And now’s the time to stop, and rest, 

And breathe in the confidence 

Of knowing what will be, will be; 

Your work, at least for now, is done.

The appeal of solitude

There’s a mystical appeal to this lonely cabin: 

A reminder of childhood vacations, perhaps, 

Or stories I have read about or by 

The lonely ones who live such isolated lives — 

Hermits, whose simple solitude led 

To philosophical revelations — 

Or perhaps I just feel echoes 

 Of life as an only child, 

Finding solace in nature, the sea and the sky, 

And dreaming of finding a friend.

Smoke gets in our eyes

The smoke from Washington’s wildfires 

Drifted our way yesterday, 

Leaching our world of color and definition 

And making it hard to breathe.

 I ache for all whose lives and homes 

 And lungs are affected, 

And pray that those who are sailing away 

May find their way to clear skies and fresher air.

Unchanging presence

Think of your troubles — 

 Your joys and your sorrows — 

As clouds, ever rising and moving across 

The cerulean blue of your life: 

Let them go now: 

 Breathe deeply and center yourself 

 In the unchanging presence of sea and sky; 

 The infinite love that wells up and forms 

The background and root of existence.

Investing in an unknown future

I bought these plants last year 

 At our local nursery, 

Because the label said they were deer proof, 

And (added benefit) purple. 

The labels didn’t happen to mention 

(Or perhaps I didn’t notice) 

That they might not bloom the first year, 

But that next year the stalks 

 Would be six feet tall, 

 Which came as a huge surprise! 

And now I’m glad I took a chance 

On the promise of an unknown plant: 

It’s the only thing still blooming in my garden, 

And so huge you can see them from the street. 

Sometimes you just have to trust…

Unexpected benefits

As you can see from our lawn,

It’s been a dry fall; 

No rain to speak of since June, 

So we’re doing our best 

 To keep the birdbaths full, 

As they’re not just for the birds. 

If you keep the kindness flowing, 

You never know who might unexpectedly benefit.

On gray days

Sometimes, on gray days, 

It’s just nice to snuggle up to a friend…

Already longing for spring

Of course there will be days 

When, like the apples on my trees in this dry fall, 

I don’t seem to be ripening,

 Or even bearing fruit — and then I wonder 

If I should have been a birch; perhaps a pine? 

No, nothing evergreen, because I’m not: 

These inevitable winters, 

 When I feel I’ve shed my leaves, 

I’m bare and brown; exposed, and chilled 

By the absence of a purpose or a calling 

Til spring returns, and I’m young and green again, 

And eager to produce: it’s just a cycle, 

One we’ve seen before, but still — 

When this cold dark rises in our souls 

It’s hard to trust the sap will flow again…

Prayers for recovery

This beautiful flicker 

Collided with one of our windows yesterday 

And fell to the deck, stunned. 

Her eyes at first were open, 

But as they slowly closed, I feared the worst, 

And the sadness over the loss 

 Was coloring my thoughts until 

I saw her slowly flex her wings, 

Then fly, ever so gracefully, away. 

Recovery, I thought, thinking of friends 

Who struggle with great challenges, 

Takes time: I pray this flicker’s ease of flight 

Will echo in the lives of all who deal with loss.

Breathe into the day

Such joy, to sit and watch the moon 

 As she glides, slowly into the sea. 

Together we breathe our way 

Into the new day…

Where the heart leads

Sometimes, when there is no path, 

It falls to us to create our own 

And then to follow it 

 To where we’ve been, unknowing, led 

By the instincts of our hearts.

Turning things around

In this orientation, though it wasn’t intended, 

This painting faintly suggests a dollar sign. 

But look what happens 

 When you turn it clockwise: 

Spirit emerges! 

Sometimes when we’re caught up 

In worldly concerns, it helps 

To try turning things around 

And looking at them differently…

The appeal of the subtle

Had I not been drawn 

To the colors in the sky, 

I might have missed 

 The beauty of the scene below: 

The way the fog caressed the field, 

The way the light illuminates 

 The graceful curve of the roof… 

Yes, bold beauty draws our attention,

 But it’s fleeting: our task is to see past it; 

To appreciate the subtle appeal 

 Of that which will endure.

Wait patiently

And then there are are those days 

When we’re so eager for what’s happening next 

We leap ahead, forgetting 

That we were not designed — 

And don’t have everything it takes — 

To make this trip alone. 

In such cases, patience may well be 

Our only option…

Elegance in the wings

How often are we so distracted by the drama 

That we miss the quiet beauty 

That stands patiently on the sidelines? 

Make time today to really look; 

To see beyond the obvious 

To the truth that waits, elegant, in the wings.

Time to rest and reflect

There’s a stillness in the air, a quiet hush 

When that first red tree appears: 

All nature knows that summer’s end 

Is on its way: cool air, a hunkering down, 

And a return, a settling in, 

A narrowing of horizons and daylight hours. 

Time to rest, to breathe, take stock;

 Reflect on where we’ve been 

 And where we’ve yet to go.

Sharing concerns

Gathering together near the water cooler, 

We share both the water and our observations 

 About our fellow travelers. 

When is it gossip, 

And when do our shared thoughts reflect 

Shared concerns for the health of the group? Communication is a vital component 

Of a community’s well-being.

The siren song of destiny

Fig leaves, burnished by the evening sun: 

Their abstract patterns draw me to the window 

As surely as a baby’s cry 

Calls a mother to her crib. 

Each of us has a particular music 

That acts as a siren’s call to lure us, 

Not to devastation but to destiny; 

Into that space that we were born to fill.

A witness to perfection

A volunteer crocosmia decided to appear

 Amidst my bed of euphorbia, 

Choosing for herself 

A perfect backdrop for her charms. 

The early morning light simply adds 

To her perfection:

 I am grateful to have served as a witness.