Tuesday, April 30, 2024

Fragility of blooming

Imagine the ache and the promise 
Of this slow unfurling; 
Like watching your daughter 
Budding into puberty 
As the support system you’ve provided 
Softens and opens — 
The sweetness of possibility; 
That delicate fragility 
 When facing the winds of change…

Monday, April 29, 2024

Beauty and injustice

How much easier it seems, 
 Yet how more rare 
To awaken to beauty 
Than it is to awaken to injustice.
 Beauty requires no response but appreciation; 
Injustice, though… frustration, guilt, horror? 
Shamed by our inaction or our helplessness? 
Feelings that linger, 
 Haunt our dreams and waking hours, 
 Though we try instead to focus
 On beauty…

Sunday, April 28, 2024


We don’t see architectural details like this 
On houses any more, but seeing these, 
I find myself imagining the pride of workmanship 
The builders must have felt 
 To create such beauty, 
And the joy the new owners must have felt 
(And the present ones must still be feeling) 
To be living with such perfection. 
Art and creativity at its best 
Can be spiritually uplifting; 
As Eckhart Tolle says, “A portal to the sacred.”

Saturday, April 27, 2024

Shine anyway

It’s important, when you feel 
Your own light is being blocked, 
To shine anyway: there’s always the chance 
That the reflected light 
 From your determined efforts 
Is igniting wisdom and beauty somewhere else.

Friday, April 26, 2024

Ephemeral beauty

So many fallen blossoms underfoot, 
Already having lived out their promise, 
On their way to dust and extinction, 
And yet I cannot bear to step on them, 
But leap across instead, 
As if they were a puddle, 
Hoping not to crush their delicate, 
Ephemeral beauty…

Thursday, April 25, 2024

The play of dark and light

It’s hard to say what’s lovelier here: 
The leaves? Or the flowers? 
Each has such grace — 
 But why do we have to choose? 
For each, it is the play of dark and light; 
The textures and the colors 
That in nature, as in life, 
Offer both beauty and meaning; 
An invitation to explore, 
 As well as joy and inspiration.

Wednesday, April 24, 2024

Gratitude and response

A picture can’t really convey 
The magnificence of this ancient rhody, 
Which is almost two stories tall 
And blesses us with its glorious waterfall of pink 
Each year around this time; 
Nor can words truly convey 
My gratitude for this amazing gift 
And the joy that fills my heart each morning 
 As I sit and watch those pink buds 
 Turn to blossoms. 
The undemanding generosity of nature 
 Continues to astound me: 
 How can we not ache — and sacrifice— 
To protect it?

Tuesday, April 23, 2024

Glowing in the dark

Walking by our neighbor’s house at sundown,
 I’m surprised by how brightly this purple pops: 
In this low light, it’s practically iridescent, 
And I find I’m itching to get back home, 
To see if our apple blossoms also 
Show up better in the fading light of evening. 
There are those of us, I do believe, 
Whose true colors shine more brightly 
In darker times; 
Whose quiet worth might be otherwise easily missed.

Monday, April 22, 2024

Green and good

Apple trees blooming, 
A newly mowed lawn, 
A moon so round it stops me in my tracks 
(And wakes me up at 3am, 
Beaming love through my bedroom window) 
Life in this moment is green and good.

Sunday, April 21, 2024

Hidden iceberg

From our perspective, at the top of the cliff,
 It looked as if a giant were floating underwater; 
Only his foot and toes sticking out
 (You know, of course, 
That giants only have 3 toes!) 
Sort of like an iceberg, 
Like the one we carry in our hearts — 
All the hidden thoughts and history 
That lie behind the words we speak and write; 
The secret fuel to our anger, our compassion, 
And our art…

Saturday, April 20, 2024

Apple blossom time

Our apple trees are blooming, 
Their bright blossoms coloring their branches 
With rosy promises of fruit to come.

Friday, April 19, 2024

Taking that path

Looking ahead, the path seems clear, 
But then it appears to peter out: 
Should we take it anyway? 
Or live in fear 
That we’ll take the risk but then find ourselves 
Trapped at the end with nothing to do 
But turn back. 
But what will we have lost if we take that risk? 
Only time. Only time. 
 And there’s always the chance 
 The adventure will have been 
 Worth that time; 
That you might come back 
Having learned a new truth 
About how strong you can be…

Thursday, April 18, 2024

Blinding preconceptions

Seen through the trees, 
 The setting sun’s reflection, 
The path it casts across the water, disappears — 
Just so, we humans, easily distracted, 
Can fail to see the fine thread that connects us 
To everyone we meet. 
When will we learn to step beyond 
The preconceptions that so often blind us 
And welcome the light and color that 
The Other can bring into our lives?

Wednesday, April 17, 2024

Leafy greenliness

What beauty we might detect in scenes like this 
Would depend upon our willingness to appreciate 
 The randomness, the natural arrangement 
 Of water, grass, stone and stump, 
While at the same time imagining 
(Projecting, if you will) 
Angelic or childlike creatures 
Delighting in the presence of 
A pond, the leafy greenliness of spring, 
And the warm embrace of sunlight after 
A winter’s lengthy cold and dark…

Tuesday, April 16, 2024


The wind last night was churning up the waves, 
Tossing the trees 
 And hurling pine cones at our roof and windows. 
But still the sun, 
 As if to compensate for all that violence, 
Insisted on brushing all her clouds with pink; 
Put to the blush at seeing wind’s fierce temper 

Monday, April 15, 2024

In that liminal space

They seem to keep recurring, 
Those times when we are clearly between: 
We know — however imperfectly — 
What lies behind us; 
We can clearly tell we’ve left it behind; 
We seem to be moving forward— 
However slowly— 
But it’s not exactly clear 
What we’re moving toward, 
Or how long it might take to get there, 
Or what may await us when we finally arrive. Uncomfortable as we all tend to be 
 With uncertainty, 
It’s easy to be tempted to turn back; 
To return to the known 
 From which we walked away. 
But we need to trust 
 That the reasons for our departure are still valid, 
And what lies ahead, 
 However long it takes to get there, 
Will have something fresh and reinvigorating 
 That will help us more fully realize 
The promise of fulfillment 
 With which we’ve each been entrusted.

Sunday, April 14, 2024

Feeding the future

Having carefully rid our lawn of dandelions,
 She now seeks her reward: 
How about a little cracked corn, 
Or perhaps a few tasty peanuts? 
Think of it as nourishment 
For her as yet unborn fawn…

Saturday, April 13, 2024

Curse of perfection

The morning sun fashions a tapestry of lace 
Upon the window just across from me; 
A momentary gift before it rises into the scene 
And overwhelms the vibrant colors with its light, 
Just as a demand for perfection 
Might reduce the charming appeal 
Of a child’s presentation or a haphazard garden; 
A toss of flowers in a field or in the woods…

Friday, April 12, 2024

Stay the course

And on those days 
When life feels like an endless struggle,
 A path of infinite resistance, 
A desperate hanging on to keep from falling 
Backwards into a slough of despond, 
I wish you strength to stay the course, 
The courage to resist the tide of negativity 
 That threatens to overwhelm us all, 
And the grace to see beyond the struggle 
And trust that light and joy will come again.

Wednesday, April 10, 2024

The wall of thorns

There’s something reminiscent 
 About the choice to hide such beauty 
Behind a wall of thorns… ah yes! 
The fairy tale; Sleeping Beauty! 
But that was not the first thing to come to mind. 
Instead I pictured my daughters, 
And the ways they chose (or learned) 
To dress to mask their beauty 
 From the predators they encountered 
In the world…

Tuesday, April 9, 2024

Madrona skin

The evening sun casts shadows on 
The exposed skin of the Madrona, 
Which eyes me as I photograph 
The textures of its bark. 
We are old friends, the Madrona and I, 
Aging together as we stand beside 
 The sea we both have loved so many years.

Monday, April 8, 2024

A floral tribute

In gratitude to a kind friend 
Who sent my husband home 
With flowers from her garden 
(Which, unlike ours, is protected from the deer 
With a tall fence). 
In this era of division I’m reluctant 
To fence off any part of my yard 
For the message of exclusion it might send…

Sunday, April 7, 2024


My camera can’t do justice 
To the goldfinch in my yard, 
But only gives impressions 
 Of his color and his shape: 
It can’t define the texture 
 Of his feathers or his feet, 
Or convey that sense I get 
Of impending flight, 
Any more than we, from a distance, 
Can get a sense of what delineates 
One human from another; 
So much easier to make blanket 
Judgments from afar and write folks off, 
Assuming they don’t matter 
Or have nothing to offer 
Because they appear to fit 
Some preconceived stereotype…

Saturday, April 6, 2024


There’s nothing like a little whimsy 
 To brighten someone’s day — 
Your own, of course, for listening to your heart, 
But for others, too, surprised into a healing laugh, 
Or inspired to indulge a little whimsy of their own: Permission to be and do some little thing 
That makes their own hearts sing.

Friday, April 5, 2024

May your light shine through

May the light you carry within 
Be strong enough to break through 
Any clouds that might surround you.

Thursday, April 4, 2024

Spring green

A cloudy day in spring, 
And the newly leafing trees provide 
Bright contrast to the evergreens 
That decorate the hills that lie behind them.

Wednesday, April 3, 2024

Skunk cabbage season

It’s skunk cabbage season, 
And in marshy lowlands everywhere, 
The smelly plants 
 Are lifting their golden hoods in prayer; 
A silent cacophony of wet-footed monks 
On pilgrimage in search of warmth and sun.

Tuesday, April 2, 2024

Silver stream of love

There will be days when the gray hovers there, 
As if hoping to extinguish the light. 
Time to focus on the silver lining beneath it all: 
The river of love that flows through each of us.

Monday, April 1, 2024

The humble semicolon

I am told a semicolon 
 Indicates a generosity of spirit; 
A willingness to share, explain, or clarify 
Whatever statement might have preceded it — 
An extra hand, to help us 
On our way to understanding; 
A sort of waypoint, 
To help guide us on our journey — 
Much like the subtle indicators 
Nature offers to those who walk along a beach… 
(Ellipses, I am told, 
Are evidence and invitation 
To the common bond that links us together.)