Mystery

Sometimes life’s a mystery: 

Layers upon layers 

Of reflections and incidents 

That may or may not add up 

To anything recognizable 

 Or even understandable, 

Yet still we persist in hoping 

 There’s some kind of rhyme or reason 

And that everything will turn out for the best.

Sunrise after a storm

Sunrise after a storm: 

Just what we all need, 

To reassure ourselves 

That things will get better, 

That life will go on 

After all the devastation is past.

Past imperfect

We ripped all of the weeds out of our garden 

And planted so-called deer-proof plants, 

Only to find there’s really no such thing. 

As we watch the deer chew the leaves 

Off all the stalks, leaving us a garden 

 That’s just full of sticks and mulch, 

I’m reminded of the words 

Of Scottish poet Robert Burns: 

“The best laid plans o’ mice an’ men 

Gang aft agley,” and find I miss the weeds, 

 Much as I miss some past imperfect presidents…

Adjusting sails

We used to have a sign that read, 

“You can’t control the wind, 

But you can adjust your sails.” 

I think of this now, 

As the same loud wind 

That kept us awake last night 

Becomes a recreational opportunity 

 For someone else this morning. 

How, I wonder, might we adjust our sails 

To deal with the coming storm?

For all the losses

Today I offer flowers 

For all who wrestle with losses, large or small: 

There seem to be more right now 

Than any of us can count — 

Not just of lives and jobs and homes, 

But of kindness and generosity, 

Of sympathy and empathy. 

What can we do to restore belief 

And trust in this hurting world?

On being shy

We introverts are shy, 

But shy can be interpreted 

 In lots of different ways: 

As timid, or as snobbish; 

As uninterested, or unwilling, 

Or sometimes just invisible — 

Which sometimes is exactly 

What we’re hoping for..

Be light

An ordinary afternoon 

In an ordinary, imperfect forest, 

Transformed by late afternoon sunlight 

Into an invitation, into magic and mystery. 

This is the transformative power of light, 

And we, too, can be light; 

 Can choose to illuminate 

The beauty in the ordinary.

Prayers for those inundated

Prayers flying today 

For all who live in Washington 

Close to rivers or the sea: 

May their homes and their lives 

Be safe from the floods.

Running? From what, and why?

Remember that old saying: 

“When the going gets tough, 

The tough get going”? 

These two look like they’re escaping, 

But what? And why? 

That urge to flee when things get rough 

May not always be the voice of reason: 

It’s always important to ask yourself 

What aspect of yourself you’re running from, 

And what in the world might be improved 

If you made the choice to stay?

No direct path

Whatever your objective, 

The path to reach it may not be that direct. 

Don’t be afraid if life seems to be taking you 

Aside, or around the bend: 

Look forward to finding a new perspective 

While moving ever closer to your goal.

Driftwood predators

When I first discovered photography, 

I was living on a small island, 

And I became obsessed 

 With taking driftwood pictures: 

Their curious formations 

Looked like metaphors to me. 

I rarely encounter driftwood these days,

 But this one called to me, 

And spoke of predators, 

Feeding on the entrails of their prey; 

Unpleasantly reminiscent 

 Of the current state of my country…

The power of intention

It was a drive-by sheeping, 

And the miracle of it was 

 That while the grasses in the foreground 

And the trees back behind 

All dissolved into stripes 

With the motion of the car 

The sheep remained so clear:

 A testament to the power 

Of focus and intention. 

How can we employ that power 

To help mitigate world pain?

A brighter tomorrow

As evening falls and darkness descends 

The colors in the sky ignite, 

 Reminding us that endings can be beautiful; 

That when things look their blackest 

Light is that much more appreciated, 

And that a new dawn is promised to arrive, 

Just around the corner. 

Trust in that, do not despair, 

And let hope guide you through this night 

Into a brighter tomorrow.

Go with confidence

Whatever path we’re given, 

May we choose to stride with confidence 

While always listening 

For the promptings of spirit 

And the guidance of the heart.

At day’s end

Arching her back like a ballerina,

 She leans into the dying sun 

To soak up its last rays 

Before the mists of evening overtake her.

Don’t be misled

There will be many 

Who offer to light the way for you;

 Who claim to know and speak the truth, 

But only seek what leads to their advantage…

Alone with the mystery

For those who seek the mystery, 

Time alone offers a gift:

A chance to feel the weight of winter clouds, 

Yet see the light that’s just beyond them; 

A chance to feel the rocky footing underneath, 

And hear the power of the waves 

Who both deliver, and wash the stones away; 

A chance to learn 

How small we and our troubles are, and yet 

How sharing them with earth and sky and sea 

Can lead us to solutions beneficial to all.

A delicate calligraphy

Earth, water, sky and forest — 

All a pleasing backdrop 

To the lives we’re born to live, 

And we, a delicate calligraphy, 

Tracing our stories over time,

 Reflected in the lives around us.

Distraction

When the world is such a beautiful place, 

Why are you staring into your phone?

Above it all

If the hurly burly world feels a bit overwhelming, Sometimes it’s good to get above the fray;

 To get both a different perspective 

And a respite from the madness…

Resilience

As the building blocks of our society 

Seem to be tumbling, 

Let us take heart from nature’s triumphs 

And trust that goodness may continue 

To rise up from the rocky soil 

Of our mistakes and failures.

Family challenges

In this post-holiday time I’m thinking of families: 

Folks grouped together with broad commonalities 

But subtle differences,

And how easy it is to celebrate the first 

Yet struggle with the second: 

The choices, the personalities, the styles and beliefs 

That make sense to one but not to another; 

The ways we revert to old patterns 

And listen without hearing, 

And how we manage to co-exist over time…

Gratitude

A gray day on an island, and a pond, 

With water lilies, and a boat — 

Peace, and a brief abatement 

From the worries of the world: 

Another reason to give thanks.

Gratitude demands response

There’s so much to be grateful for: 

Why, even the trees are gifted 

With glorious fall dresses 

And draped with liquid pearls. 

How can we not empathize 

With all who suffer 

 Heartbreak, loss, and loneliness, 

Famine, fear, disease, and pain? 

How can we not share with those 

Less fortunate than ourselves?

Learning from plants’ diversity

I wonder if those who oppose diversity 

Have boring gardens? 

Plants come in so many amazing varieties, 

And each seems so quite unafraid 

 To flaunt its individuality; 

Why wouldn’t we include 

 As many different kinds as we could find 

To coexist and fit in with each other?

Lift thine eyes

It’s all too easy to become distracted 

By the dailiness of life — 

All the demands and complexity 

Of that which is close to us — 

And miss that which calls us 

Into mystery, into silence; 

Into the future and beyond. 

Look up, lift thine eyes, 

And know the peace that lies waiting, 

Just beyond your grasp.

What does this say to you?

If you turn this picture on its side, 

It looks like one of those Mt. Rushmore faces 

Blowing out smoke; I was tempted 

To show it that way. 

But something tells me to leave it as I found it, 

And let you draw your own conclusions…

Invitation to mystery

Sundays are for mystery, 

For getting in touch 

With that which cannot be explained: 

With the wisdom of the ages 

And that inner voice that wisdom planted 

Deep within our souls 

To help us find our way to truth and light. 

Stop, look, and listen 

 To what calls us to new heights and smoothes 

New paths for undertaking 

New adventures.

Elephantine beauty

The elephantine beauty of these tree trunks 

Takes my breath away: 

To have lived so long and endured so much, 

Yet still be pouring energy 

Into their annual display of autumnal color… 

It gives me hope that we, too, can survive 

These current depredations on our society 

 Without succumbing to destruction 

Of our fundamental values, rights and freedoms.

Life’s layers

Life, our bodies, our experiences 

 Are composed of many layers: 

The surface, often fragile, transitory, 

Details lost in a fog of memory over time, 

And then the hard bone of things, 

That which solidifies into rigidity: 

Assumptions, principles, what will make us 

Take a stand, and then, beneath it all, 

The vulnerability at the heart that we protect, 

Scarred and wounded, yet still beating 

With warmth and possibility…

Rainy Day Thoughts

Waiting for an early morning ferry 

And watching through the rain 

As the cars and people gather 

For the journey that lies ahead 

I’m grateful for the sparks of light, 

Bright indicators, placed by some 

For the health and safety of others, 

Relics of a time when leaders understood 

The concept of the greater good 

And invested in a brighter, safer future for all…

Reciprocity

All nature understands the wisdom 

Of protecting and respecting one another: 

As the clouds shower the tree with rain, 

And the tree weaves its branches 

To frame the beauty of the clouds, 

Should we not nourish and protect 

Those who need what we have to share, 

And should we not give attribution and respect 

 To those who nourish and protect us in return? 

But instead there are those who would 

Demean and imprison the other 

And dismantle that which helps keep us alive.

The appeal of a path

What is it about paths 

That’s so appealing? 

The itch to follow to someplace new 

We haven’t yet explored? 

The sense that someone’s gone before 

And cared enough to clear the way for others? 

A longing to escape what has become 

Far too familiar? 

Or simple curiosity, a reluctance to ignore 

An invitation?

Or maybe it’s just easier

Than striking out on your own.. 

Isolation

Oh, to be a cabin in the woods, 

Sheltered by tall evergreens 

And feasting on a view of the water; 

Away from all the hurly burly 

Of injustice and political squabbles, 

Lies and confrontations, 

Pointless chatter and urban noise; 

The only sound the waves, and cries 

Of eagles, gulls, and the occasional croak 

Of seals…

The prism of preconceptions

Looking at this image, 

The way what’s a mountain above 

 Becomes a kind of claw in its reflection 

And the trees sharpen into knives in the water, 

I wonder if everything 

 We think we are observing 

 Is really just reflections, 

Seen through the prism 

Of our own assumptions and preconceptions.

Restoring my soul

There’s something so comforting 

About being away from the manmade world. 

To stand among the rocks and trees, 

To see how life can continue to thrive 

In inhospitable environments 

And roots can find their way to soil 

Despite tremendous obstacles 

Restores my soul and gives me hope.

Last impressions

Even as the leaves fall to the ground 

And leave their imprints on the sidewalk 

As they dissolve in the rain, 

We, too, will leave some impression behind, 

Our kindness or brutality, 

Acquisitiveness or generosity 

Thrown into relief by our departure, 

And what would you have that impression be?

Autumnal rainbow

Driving down the peninsula 

To spend an afternoon with a friend 

It’s almost hard to say 

Which aspect of the afternoon 

Brings more pleasure: 

The hours of conversation, 

Deep discussions and hearty laughter, 

Or the rainbow blush of autumn 

As she sheds her multicolored coat…

Brief encounter

For just a brief few moments

 I held you in my hand and felt 

The beating heart of America:

 Fragile, wounded, but recovering,

 And so, to give you safety, time, 

And room to spread your wings and fly again,

 I set you carefully in a sheltered spot 

 Away from birds of prey 

 But open to the outer world. 

 After a few breaths, 

 You flew to me, resting briefly 

On my pantleg, restoring balance, 

Then off into a nearby tree 

And home into the sky.

Veterans Day

Today and every day, 

We honor them, 

And thank them for their service…

Intuition

There are times when we need to listen 

To the promptings of intuition 

And trust the possibility 

 That the longing for something to change, 

The impulse to make a course correction

— however slight — 

Might just be God calling…

Anointing the ordinary

Autumn, with its golden skies and fog, 

Has a lovely way of anointing 

 The wholly ordinary 

Into something holy and mysterious…

The joy of symmetry

I remember, as a child, my mother teaching me 

The importance of asymmetry.

 At Christmas, I’d arrange things on the mantel 

And she would come by after me 

And shift them all around; 

 Put two candles on the right and shift 

The other to the left, 

Yet still, as an adult, I love 

The natural symmetry of things, 

And sometimes take delight 

In ignoring the Rule of Thirds…

Troubling times

I love the whimsy of this friendly acorn, 

And thought I’d share today, 

Thinking you might need a smile — 

Especially if you’re planning to fly somewhere 

And are worried that your flight 

 Might be canceled, 

Or if you’re worried that your next meal 

Might be canceled, 

Or that your health insurance 

Might have to be canceled. 

In these troubling times, 

We need all the smiles we can get…

As the seasons change

Though, due to the earth’s rotation,

 I can no longer watch the setting sun 

As she brushes the clouds with color, 

I still get to see the clouds and their colors 

Toss their reflections into the sea…

Hope breaks through

Poking through the grass 

 And leaves of autumn 

As life and light inevitably arise 

Amidst the death and ordinariness 

Of daily living, you remind us 

There is hope, and there are miracles, 

And golden opportunities 

 To look beyond the losses and the worries 

And find grace.

To be a boat

Oh, to be a boat, 

In such still waters,

 Calm, and yet in readiness 

For whatever storms might befall me, 

With bumpers out, and extra oars 

And rope to spare in case I need 

To offer or accept a tow; 

Content, assured, at peace, 

 Awash in halcyon reflections…

Choices

This compass has me thinking about choices: 

The decisions that we make — 

Sometimes hard, sometimes easy; 

Sometimes conscious, often unconscious — 

And what they say about who we are 

And what matters. 

What if we spent more time just noticing 

When opportunities arise to do or say 

Something that more accurately reflects 

 What we believe, who we are, 

And what’s really most important in our lives? 

Would that take us in a different direction?

Buck encounter

He greets me with what looks like suspicion 

 As I walk out to my car, 

 But that could be me projecting: 

It might be that he’s worried 

That I caught him sneaking apples from my tree 

Or maybe he just wonders 

If I’ll ever speak his language. 

Whatever he may be thinking,

 I always appreciate that moment of connection, 

And his beauty.

Entangled

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave 

When first we practice to deceive,” 

My mother used to say, and now 

I see how tangled our country has become 

In this winter of such discontent

 And long to be — or even see— 

Some light spot amid the branches 

Which might be truth, 

 Launching itself into the fray 

And driving home the need to find 

A way to reach through, and reach out 

To one another, spreading hope 

To grow like leaves, 

 Uniting branches in the spring 

Into a single tree again.