Art with a message

I’ve always admired those who make art 

Which has a story to tell;

 A lesson to share that might awaken 

Awareness of a larger truth, 

And so I found this sculpture 

 Particularly poignant 

In a way my own work rarely is, 

Managing as it does to communicate, 

Not just beauty, but a message… 

But how will we respond?

Gratitude

Yesterday was the first day in weeks 

That I had a chance to photograph 

 Two of my favorite things: 

Wooden boats, and a sunset. 

It was a perfect end to a perfect day, 

 With so much to be grateful for —

 Friends, family, delicious food 

(I didn’t have to cook) 

And beauty everywhere I looked; 

An honor to share with you.

An opportunity to practice

Today’s our day to focus — 

Despite all temptation to the contrary — 

On all the people, events, and things 

For which we’re grateful; 

To seek out and count our blessings; 

To remember all the gifts 

We take for granted, and let go, 

If only for an afternoon, 

Our worries and concerns and thoughts of doom — 

 Good practice for a future 

That will lift us from depression into action.

Monkey business

The good news is this: 

 I’ve finally taken the plunge and learned 

 How to combine photos on my phone. 

The bad news is this: 

I’m finding it hard to be thankful, 

Having watched a whole country 

Monkeying around with the truth.

 Nonetheless, I’m grateful — 

For you, for my friends, for my family, 

And all the blessings of this life.

Broken promises

It’s evening, and the cars are all 

Lined up in the dark, wet night, 

Waiting for the boat that never comes. 

There are so many ways we’ve learned to trust; 

So many promises, though broken, we forgive, 

Knowing that folks are doing their best 

 Despite overwhelming odds; 

That “Neither snow nor rain 

Nor heat nor gloom of night 

Shall stay these couriers 

 From their appointed rounds.”

I still believe, but clearly many have lost faith: 

Why else would they elect

 A promise to turn all trust upside down?

Courageous

Even the last tiny flower 

Casts a shadow all her own 

As she faces bravely into the winter ahead.

 Watching her, take courage: 

You, too, can make a difference 

Wherever you take a stand.

When blessings abound

Though the flowers in the garden 

 Are all gone now,

 I am blessed to have loved ones 

Who bring me flowers on a whim.

 Is this why this is the time of year 

We choose to count our blessings?

 Could it be a way of saying, 

 Though the fields and trees are bare, 

We are grateful for past bounty 

And we trust that good times will come again?

A restorative break

Sometimes you just need to kick back, 

Grab your favorite dessert, 

Get together with good friends, 

And enjoy what’s left of Autumn’s beauty.

 Take a little break, and feed your troubled soul…

Frost of age

It’s here again, that time of year 

When the fallen leaves begin to frost — 

That last silver sparkle 

 Before they turn to dust; 

Their wrinkled veins like fingers, 

Clinging to the earth 

And the last vestiges of life…

In wonder

There are those scenes 

That stop us in our tracks, 

Reminding us how fortunate we are 

To be alive in so beautiful a world, 

While at the same time humbling us 

With the magnitude of all that came before us 

 And will inevitably outlive us…

Caught in inconsistency

Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote 

That a foolish consistency was the hobgoblin 

Of small minds, a phrase I’ve always thought 

Was useful, and had merit — 

 Both as an encouragement to openness 

And as a rationale when caught in inconsistency, 

And so I use it here, to justify 

This abstract artist’s random descent 

 Into the representational: 

I know it’s out of character 

(For subject, if not for color) 

But the truth is, it makes me smile, 

And these days that’s a very special blessing.

Perils of disparity

For every castle out there, 

There are hovels hiding nearby, 

Housing those who help maintain 

 That elegant space; 

Who may even derive satisfaction 

From close association with the castle, 

Whatever the behaviors of its inhabitants. 

But the greater the disparity 

Between the rich and poor, 

The greater seems the likelihood 

 That any sense of common ground 

 And compassion for those less fortunate 

 Will inevitably have begun to wane…

Those monumental clouds

We’ve been watching those monumental clouds 

For a while now, knowing they presage 

A monumental storm, 

But what can we do? 

Find ways to shelter those we love, 

And open our hearts as best we can 

To ensure the safety of those around us; 

Batten down the hatches and brace ourselves — 

Or perhaps not? 

 Maybe take a lesson from the trees 

And become more flexible; 

Learn to bend, lest we risk breaking…

The choice we make

Those of us who are earthbound watch 

As the waves and boats and clouds 

Go scurrying by, and imagine 

How challenging it must be, on a windy day, 

To be both free and at the mercy 

Of forces we can’t control — 

Until we understand that, wherever we stand, 

That will always be the case, 

And we can choose to revel 

In what freedoms we do have, or mourn, 

Or whine, about that which lies beyond control: 

The choice, now and forever, 

 Is always ours to make.

Brighten the corner

The time has come 

To take a lesson from the sun 

And simply brighten the corner where you are; 

To shine a light on the simple, the beautiful, 

The ordinary — every thing, however small, 

That lightens the burden or sends a spark 

Of creativity, compassion, 

 Generosity, hope, or kindness 

Into the world around us.

Awakened by the moon

Awakened by the moon, I stepped outside, 

Shutting the door behind me 

To ensure the cats didn’t follow 

(They’re black; I’d never find them in the dark). 

Lifting my phone, I pressed the big white button 

(How like a moon, itself, except, unlike the moon, 

It never drops behind a veil of clouds 

As this moon soon did). 

However full and present, 

It quickly disappeared, as if it never was; 

So like the light we thought had filled the world 

That now seems hidden once again, 

Or just illusion, and the clouds, so dark, 

Are our true destiny, 

 All light and goodness gone, 

As if the cats had gotten out and disappeared, 

First into night, and then, with one last howl, 

Into the belly of the raccoon 

Who lurks beneath the deck.

Confined or free

There are those who are happy 

And content to be confined in their cages, 

And others who are free to fly 

But stuck in their anger, 

 Frozen by their fear and frustration. 

When will the time come 

When all can be free 

 And feel so safe in their freedom 

That they’re willing to take flight and explore?

Inspired by clouds

I’m standing on the cliff we know so well, 

Lost in the complexity of clouds — 

 The dark, the light, the rough, the smooth, 

Colors and shapes all shifting 

 With the sunset and the wind, 

A painting by a master I could never emulate, 

And I take heart: there is still beauty there 

To soothe our wounded souls; all is not lost. 

Inspired and revitalized, we’re fortified,

 And trust we’ll have the courage 

 And the strength for the work that lies ahead.

However dark the night appears

However dark the night appears, 

The moon will shine again, 

Waxing and waning in an orbit all her own 

To remind us all things cycle, 

And the light must eventually return…

Who will protect?

The clouds are gathering, growing close, 

 Yet still the mountain huddles in the distance 

Under her new white blanket of snow. 

Whether seen or unseen, her bulk remains, 

Looms through pink fog: 

A testament to power 

 So much greater than our own, 

Yet still made vulnerable 

 By her link to our shared destiny. 

Who will now protect her prize possessions — 

Her trees, her grass, her rocks and stones, 

Her rivers and the animals 

That dance and fly and swim and mate 

Upon, beneath, and around her granite cliffs, 

Her sparking streams and needled boughs?

Red flags and more

Since we put up these flags, 

The number of birds who fly into our windows 

 And drop, lifeless, to the deck below 

Has happily dropped to zero — 

And that is something to celebrate, 

It is, 

But their cheery fluttering in the wind 

Implies a joyfulness it’s hard to feel these days. 

I like to think the flags are there to keep me — 

As they do the birds — 

From slamming into the hard wall of reality; 

To remind me there’s still joy and life 

 And color in the world; 

That there are still many reasons to celebrate, 

Not least of which is knowing 

We’re not the only ones who are working 

To care for and protect the lives around us.

Blue jay blues

Whatever else is going on in the world, 

The jay still comes to nibble on my figs, 

Pecking furiously at their hard young skins, 

Ensuring some won’t make it 

To next year’s harvest, 

But I don’t begrudge him that: 

There’s more than enough to share, 

And the bright electric blue of his feathers 

Adds a spark of light to the blues in my heart.

Keep on keeping on

This may be a struggle, 

But we have what it takes — 

The courage and tenacity — 

To resist the tidal currents 

And to keep driving forward 

Toward a more compassionate future.

A light in the darkness

The sky is gray today, 

And my windows are all clouded 

With the salt from the recent storm: 

All echoes — or projections — 

Of the sadness that sears my soul. 

Though I will honor that sadness for now, 

 Seeking comfort where I can, 

I won’t give up, but will continue 

 To do my best to be a light 

 In the midst of darkness 

And keep love as my guide.

Lay divisiveness to rest

And now today, 

Whatever the outcome, 

We pray for peace; 

That the bitter house of anger we built together 

May fade into the earth, 

 Beneath a flowered carpet 

 Of forgiveness and remorse; 

That its remains might feed a new crop 

Of compassion, collaboration, truth and trust; 

That we might rise above our differences 

 And pour a new foundation 

Made of hope.

That common light

There is a common light, an energy, 

That fills and fuels all things: 

The earth, the skies, the seas, 

All breathing ones that walk, or swim, or fly, 

And all that’s lived, or loved, or lost to us: 

Each, however still, enlivened by 

A spirit that unites us all, 

Unbroken, circling the globe 

And all that lives and breathes or rests 

Beneath, beside, within us or above.

Trust, rewarded

Having moved to this community during CoVid, 

I haven’t spent a lot of time exploring, 

And I’m still a little timid; a bit stuck 

On driving the familiar routes 

To get to familiar places. 

But every once in a while, 

On my way to somewhere else,

 I take a turn down unfamiliar roads 

(I’m learning to trust 

 They’ll all lead to the same place) 

And oh, what delightful surprises await —

 Like this one, with its view: 

The snow- capped mountains, 

And the castle in the distance, 

And the tree, unlike its neighbors, 

Which has yet to lose its greenness and its leaves…

Focus on the light

So many of us wait with bated breath 

For the storms we fear lie looming in our future. 

Having done what we can to forestall the worst,

Can we not try to focus 

On the light that still surrounds 

Those threatening clouds?

Leavings

At this stage in my life, I’d like to think — 

Or maybe hope — 

That, like this tree, 

 I may have littered the ground around me 

 With my leavings, the poems and the photos, 

But there are still plenty more 

Awaiting in my branches, 

Which aren’t barren yet, 

Though I’m haunted, like so many of my peers, 

By the emptiness yet to come…