Thursday, February 29, 2024


All night it poured, 
 And poured, and poured again, 
And I would sleep, 
 And wake, and sleep again, and wake, 
 Awakened by the pounding of the rain 
Upon our metal roof — so loud — 
And sleep again, 
 And dream of friends long gone, 
The memories pouring in 
 And leaking out again each time I’d wake 
And check the clock: has morning come at last? 
And when it does, I rise, 
And coffee doesn’t help me to disguise 
The lingering effects of a broken night, 
Or still the relentless sounding 
 Of the rain, the rain, the rain that’s all around us.

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Morning glory

And then the sun came up, 
To show us how the snow had clung 
To each tree, highlighting 
Their trunks and branches, 
And then inviting their intriguing shapes 
To form a pleasing frame for her beauty.

Tuesday, February 27, 2024

Who do we trust?

What the porch light shows 
Will soon be gone — or so we’re told 
By our weather app, which boldly declares 
Our temperature is 38 (it’s really 31) 
And that stuff that’s coming down is really rain 
(It’s not; it’s snow). 
What do we believe? 
 Is it what our eyes are seeing, 
Or what our screens, our sources for all news,
 Propose to tell us? 
Where is truth these days, I often wonder…

Monday, February 26, 2024

After each storm

During the storm, the wildness, gray; 
The surging waves, the urgency 
Of branches, tossing in the wind; 
And now — always — the morning after follows: 
Long shadows, rest, and golden light, 
 Its color like a promise: 
Whatever darkness comes, this, too, shall pass.

Sunday, February 25, 2024

Hold lightly

Let us hold ourselves as lightly 
As these branches cradle the moon,
 Carrying that light that rises from within 
Gently into the world, 
Trusting that, though it waxes and wanes,
 Its source remains ever constant and true;
 Shared, universal, yet uniquely our own.

Saturday, February 24, 2024

Into the light

However dark things may seem, 
The light is always beckoning, 
Inviting us forward, 
Into a brighter future.

Friday, February 23, 2024

Learning to trust

However circumstances may have changed, 
And however protected and loved we may now be, 
It’s still so hard to learn to trust again: 
Something inside still seems to expect the worst…

Thursday, February 22, 2024

What was, before…

Drawn to the window by this amazing stump,
 I tried to imagine how incredible 
The tree must have looked 
Before it was cut down; 
Like looking at the dirty bearded faces 
 Of the homeless on the streets 
And wondering how beautiful 
 They were before their lives were cut down…

Wednesday, February 21, 2024


This photo’s proof: 
Things can look really warped at times, 
Depending on where you’re standing. 
Given that, and your state of mind, 
You can easily misconstrue 
 What’s going on around you. 
Of course I could have fixed this photo, 
But it seemed to be more important 
 To communicate the possibility 
That what you think you’re seeing 
Might actually be misleading. 
Try, next time, to assume, not the worst, 
But the best of intentions 
On the part of those around you…

Tuesday, February 20, 2024


There is, in each of us, a sheltered place 
To which we can retreat and view the world 
While still engaged, yet shielded 
From the worst of the storms.
 Remember that it’s there,
 But don’t be afraid to leave it: 
It will be there when you’re ready to return.

Monday, February 19, 2024

Color me grateful

Waking to this glorious 
 Streak of orange in the sky, 
I feel immensely grateful 
 For the colors in my world.

Sunday, February 18, 2024


Driving by on a snowy morning, 
I watch the horses in the fields and shiver, 
Grateful for the comfort of my car. 
And what of all the refugees, 
Unprotected from heat or cold, 
Lying in their tents and bombed-out shelters? 
We walk and drive and sleep on the same earth, 
Though miles apart: 
How can we not ache for that connection?

Saturday, February 17, 2024

A liking for complexity

I learned early on as a photographer 
That however beautiful the natural world was, 
For me, the photograph became more appealing 
If there was something human-made — 
And hopefully pleasing, or at least functional— 
To add interest to the picture.
 I love this mountain, 
 And photograph it frequently, 
But on a clear day with no clouds to set it off, 
The structures in the foreground 
Help to break up the monotony of blues, 
In much the same way, in my paintings 
(Often a monotony of blues) 
I find myself adding streaks and stripes across
 In contrasting colors to add interest…

Friday, February 16, 2024

Ribbon of love

Awakening in the night 
To a room filled with light 
And a sky full of stars,
 I can’t but reach for my camera.
 All my life these ribbons of light —
 Those rare moments 
When the moon seems to be reaching
 Out across the water —
 Have always seemed to promise 
That we’re never truly alone…

Thursday, February 15, 2024

At the crest of the hill

Coming home, there’s always this point 
At the crest of the hill, 
Just before we descend to the coast, 
When the mountains, the water, 
The trees and the sky coalesce 
Into a perfect union of disparate parts, 
 Revealing the glorious oneness 
 Of all that has been created for our enjoyment.

Wednesday, February 14, 2024

A world beyond

This morning, for the first time,
 Through a trick of the light, 
I caught a glimpse of the mountains 
That lie just beyond our horizon: 
Such a gift! And how wonderful a reminder 
That there’sso much more to the world 
Than what we see with our limited vision…

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

Beauty everywhere

Beauty is everywhere:
 I remember, as a child, spending hours 
Sitting in our graveled drive, 
Sifting all the pebbles through my fingers 
In appreciation for the variety, 
The colors and the striations of the stones. 
And later, as an adult, 
Spending hours on the beach 
Gathering bits of colored glass 
 While my daughters played nearby. 
Look around you, wherever you are: 
There’s almost always something lovely, 
Deserving of your attention; 
Something to keep you from feeling bored.

Monday, February 12, 2024

Coping with change

When all that lies before you 
Seems troubled, tangled, 
Complex and confusing, 
Look up, and watch the clouds 
As they shift and realign before the wind. 
Always changing, never static, 
Always taking new formations; 
At times, like love and joy, 
 So pervasive and substantial, 
While at other times they’re altogether absent, 
With all the permutations in between, 
 Yet each appearance offers its own blessings: 
Shade, texture, beauty; rain or sun — 
Each has its charm, each has its challenges, 
And so will all that lies ahead. Fear not, 
But keep on moving toward your goal.

Saturday, February 10, 2024

The eagle’s cry

We heard the eagle’s distinctive cry 
And all of us looked up 
Into the tree where he likes to perch, 
Then watched him spread his wings 
And fly before us. We started to turn away, 
Then heard the cry again and saw another, 
Sitting on a nearby branch. 
It seems mating season has begun…

Friday, February 9, 2024

Walk with me

Though the clouds in the east 
Are thick and gray, 
The Sun in the west shines bright and ignites 
 All that it touches with contrasting light; 
We see with astounding clarity. 
Walk with me, and let’s enjoy 
 The feel of that sun on our backs.

Thursday, February 8, 2024

It will be okay.

May I just take a moment 
 To applaud your courage? 
I know you feel you’re all alone, 
And wondering if this choice you made 
 Was right. Perfectly understandable. 
There may be clouds, but the sea is calm 
And your engine is strong and true. 
 You can do this. You’ve got what it takes, 
And we’re proud of you. 
Words we all need to hear.

Wednesday, February 7, 2024

Colored by expectations

I remember the first time 
My mom came to visit us 
At our new home in the Pacific Northwest. 
We took her to the beach — 
So excited to have one nearby — 
And her only response was to wrinkle her nose 
And say, “Why is the sand so dirty?” 
How often do our expectations, 
Colored by the past, muddy — even vilify — 
And determinedly negate 
The beauty that is here; that is now?

Tuesday, February 6, 2024

Letting go

It’s always a surprise to see 
The bucks in the midst 
Of losing their horns each spring: 
Like snakes shedding their skins,
 They seem to understand that growth 
And gain require willingness 
To sacrifice what has gone before — 
Something we humans struggle with, 
Clinging as we do to what is or was 
Instead of trusting what’s to come.
But perhaps it’s just their natural male itch 
To shed what’s old in hopes of something new?

Monday, February 5, 2024

When the river runs dry 
And gets overgrown, 
It may be time to look for another channel — 
But of course, it’s also possible 
That the problem lies with you, 
And lack of maintenance. 
Perhaps it’s time to do a little digging; 
To clear out those distractions 
And find your way back to the Source…

Sunday, February 4, 2024

Not alone

We are, though it might seem so, not alone. 
The sea, the sky, the clouds, the beach, 
The rocks — they’re always there 
To keep us company when we are feeling lost. 
Spend some time with them, and re-remember 
Our connection with all that’s greater 
Than ourselves.

Saturday, February 3, 2024

Harbingers of Spring

Welcome, tiny harbingers of spring! 
We’ve been longing for a sight of you, 
And receive with joy 
Your bright and colorful promise 
Of warmer days to come.

Thursday, February 1, 2024

Exploring possibility

When we open our hearts and minds 
And allow creativity to pour through, 
The results can be astonishing; amazing. 
Whatever your chosen field of expression, 
Don’t be afraid to explore 
The improbable; the impossible— 
From such explorations 
Gifts to all humanity may emerge.