Celebrating Springtime

I love this time of year — 

Not just the lilacs, rhodies and lupines blooming, 

But also watching the tenderness 

 With which the doe cares for her fawn; 

The way she tucks him away 

While foraging for food 

And licks him clean as he nurses — 

So heartening, to see that life goes on 

In spite of all the mistakes we seem to make…

Driftwood

When I first became a photographer 

 I was obsessed with shots like this; 

With the colors that appear 

On driftwood when it rains. 

Though I’m rarely on a beach these days, 

I’m still drawn to that beauty: 

For some reason, 

The textures and complexity make my heart ache.

Oppositional forces

The power of those giant roots, 

Not deep, but on the surface,

 Clinging to uneven terrain,

 Movement so fluid, 

Contrasting with the linear 

Solidity of the tree they support; 

A marriage of opposites, 

Not unlike my own…

That ray of light

Sunset, on a cloudy day, 

When all the world seems gray 

And just then, at the last minute,

 A slight parting, and a burst of color 

Ignites both sky and lawn, 

And turns the lavender from dull to vibrant: 

Just think! 

If each of us could be that ray of light, however small, That heightens all the beauty lying dormant; 

Waiting for that spark of hope…

Lupine season

It’s lupine season at our local lighthouse, 

And their lemony stalks are everywhere, 

 Lining the walkways and framing the vistas 

With their delicate scent.

 I’ve never been a big fan of yellow, 

But yellow roses and yellow lupines 

Make my heart sing 

Even as the harsher golden shades 

Of the ubiquitous scotch broom 

Make me grit my teeth and grumble. 

What is it about us humans 

That always wants to say 

That I like this, but not that? 

Why must we always divide the world?

Why cast blame?

Which do we find more beautiful: 

The reflections water casts on the boat? 

Or the reflections cast by the boat upon the water? 

And why be forced to choose? 

Isn’t it the wholeness of the scene 

That has the most impact? 

As in any relationship, isn’t the beauty in it — 

Or the darkness —

 Compounded by and greater than 

The individual contributions?

Beauty in loss

The flowers tell us 

There’s beauty to be found 

Even in loss, 

But that’s not a song we care to hear 

In times like these 

When there’s so much to mourn…

Moonrise

Struggling to fall asleep, 

I wandered out to the living room 

And there, there poised the moon, 

Suspended on an invisible rope 

In a patch of clouds 

 Between two trees, 

Their branches reaching out like fans 

To touch the garment of a passing celebrity.

Hidden in the grasses

It’s Sunday, and if you do not go to church, 

Then take a walk, and sense the presence 

 Guiding you as you step. 

Look up, of course; 

 We all do that on Sundays, 

Wondering if God is there, and watching, 

But look down, as well, 

For hiding in the texture 

 And the color of the grasses 

Lurks a reminder of how alike we are, 

 Though different;

 Of how those differences, united 

Can form beauty; 

Of how, when one is downtrodden 

 All are crushed…

Madronas

The magic and the mystery 

Of madronas on the waterfront: 

The way they cling to the rocky cliffs; 

The beauty of their peeling bark 

And the vibrant underbelly it reveals; 

And finally, in spring, their golden florets, 

Igniting the evergreen-darkened hillsides 

With the promise of new life.

Apologies

Unlike this busy little bee, I realize 

I’ve been slacking off, 

And now I wish to apologize— 

Not for plays unwritten, 

Or still-bare canvases, 

But for not reaching out 

To friends and neighbors more.

 I could blame my inner introvert, or age, 

But I suspect it’s the news that’s got me 

Hibernating: Exactly the wrong response, 

But it seems to sap my energy 

When it should be rousing me to action — 

But what action could I take? 

Then round and round, and roundabout, 

My brain starts spinning 

 And soon I just need to nap.

A beautiful collaboration

The flags we posted to keep the birds 

From crashing into our windows 

Grow even more enchanting 

When our Rhodie is in bloom. 

 Wouldn’t it be nice if that were always true; 

That instead of always being in competition, Collaboration to make things better 

Were the order of the day?

Tangled

When the world gets all tangled, 

So do my paintings: 

It’s hard to stay calm in times like these…

Mountain blessings

We rise, and say good morning 

To the mountain that hovers in the distance, 

Blessing all who fall within her sight. 

May all who struggle find comfort 

 In her serene presence.

Joys of Spring

Autumn used to be my favorite season, 

But now it’s spring: The daffodils, the tulips; 

The cherry and the apple trees; 

The glorious scent of lilacs; 

The rhododendrons blooming 

In all the colors of the rainbow,

 And then the fawns arrive, 

So tiny and so new, 

Their mama is still licking them clean — 

Irresistible!

Spring’s invitation

Like wheels of sunlight, 

Or troupes of dancers spinning, 

Their golden skirts flaring, 

The rhodies in my garden burst into bloom, 

Welcoming the return of warmth, light, and color. 

O, darkness in the world and in my heart, 

How can you resist their invitation?

Some of us, like cats

Some of us, like cats, 

Hoping to fit in, 

Like to crawl into boxes: 

Like labels, they give definition 

To the challenges of life, 

Narrowing our options, 

Reducing our decisions. 

But something in me resists categorization; 

Seeks ways to do and be and see 

What’s unpredictable — 

Except when it comes to food!

Golden evening

A calm and glorious evening, 

With neighbors gathering at the cliff’s edge 

To watch together as the golden glow 

Spreads across the water, 

Tossing all that is not light into shadows.

Past and present

It’s rhododendron season, 

And their lacy ebullience enchants me; 

Hints of purity and weddings, 

A lush promise of perfection and abundance, 

Yet still I mourn the lilac bush 

I’m told once graced our yard with scent

But was torn down to make room for our garage. 

I tried to plant another 

But the deer keep nibbling on 

Its leaves and branches:

It looks like a pile of sticks, and never flowers.

I try not to let what’s lost overwhelm

The pleasures of the Now.

Take heart

I take heart from the ancient trees 

And other structures on our property 

That have fallen before forces 

Beyond their control 

And yet still manage 

To adapt; to prove useful; 

To bloom and bear fruit.

Spring

After winter’s fierce depredations, 

Spring greets us with abundance; 

Blossoms bursting from every bush and branch 

 In plenteous profusion.

Presence

Presence: The ability to be fully here, 

 Fully aware, Fully attuned 

To what’s going on around us. 

Not my greatest strength, 

But I’m working on it. 

Sitting outside helps — 

Listening to and watching 

The birds and the deer, 

The boats sailing by, 

The clouds as they drift… 

And the tiny florets with their fuzzy leaves 

In the grass at my feet.

Connection

It’s a trope, of course — 

Ships passing in the night — 

A way of describing 

 The shallowness of connection 

That occurs when we’re too busy; 

So intent on our own journeys we’ve no time 

 To do more than acknowledge 

 We’ve crossed paths 

But are headed in different directions. 

Next time we pass, let’s stop and reconnect: 

What salvation we will find in times like these 

Will come from connection.

Community

There’s something about community, 

About living together in the shadows of power, 

Whether mountains, weather, 

And the threat of high seas, 

Or political machinations that challenge 

Beliefs, health, safety, and livelihood, 

That makes us long to reach out and trust 

Across differences that once seemed 

Irreconcilable.

Subconscious Journeying

Yesterday I went into my studio 

To repair a failed painting, 

And this is what emerged —

 But why? And then I realized 

A good friend and my daughter 

Are both spending this week 

 In French and Italian castles, posting pictures, 

While another friend is moving to France. 

My subconscious has apparently 

 Gone with them on their journeys!

When grass is greener

The grass is always greener, 

The water always bluer, 

And other lives more colorful than ours, 

When viewed from behind whatever fence 

We claim has cut us off 

From all that’s good, and true, and special. 

Perhaps it’s time to either 

Climb over whatever fence 

 You feel constrains you, 

Or — better yet — to turn around and discover 

The beauty that awaits right where you stand…

Acquisition vs safety

A passing cargo ship 

Dwarfs our beloved lighthouse, 

Much as our current administration’s 

Obsession with economic gain 

Dwarfs its concern for the safety 

And protection of those

Who are barely afloat, 

Threatened and weathering storms. 

But how have we, in our complacency, 

Our own obsession with growth and acquisition Contributed to this current imbalance?

That reminder

While placing these flowers into a nest of leaves, 

I knocked off some of the petals, 

Which surprised me:

 They didn’t look withered, or decayed. 

You’d think, having lost both parents 

To unexpected heart attacks,

 I’d be accustomed to sudden death… 

That reminder, 

That everything can change in an instant.

Coyote

We had a surprise visit 

From a coyote yesterday evening 

(So glad we have indoor cats!) 

It’s hard, knowing what we know, 

Not to see them as evil, predators, 

Destroying what we love 

To feed their voracious appetites, 

And yet — 

 How much of our distaste is preconceived; 

How much of their behavior 

Has been triggered by our own?

Race to fruition

And now the apple trees have entered 

The race to fruition, 

Their rough bark graced with rosy buds 

That open into snowy blossoms 

Humming with joyful bees… 

Let me lose myself in Spring, 

That I might hopefully ignore 

The dark changes in the world 

Beyond the borders of my yard; 

Changes over which I have no power.

Anticipation

I greet with joy 

The return of the rhododendron buds, 

So tightly furled, on branches 

Reaching higher than my ceiling, 

And bless again the previous owners 

Who had the vision to plant this bush

And the contractors who protected it 

While carefully installing windows 

For viewing its brief season, 

And hope the young golden chain 

We decided to plant nearby 

Will someday bring future owners equal pleasure…

Ah, memories

Many — if not most — of this madrona’s branches 

Are clearly dead, yet still she manages in spring 

To produce a few new panicles and pedicels — 

Sweet florets that are edible, 

Both now , and later, when they turn 

Into berries, great for stringing 

Into garlands that our children 

 Would drape around our Christmas tree — 

Ah, memories…

Soul connection

I’m not sure why you chose to stand 

So close to me that morning. 

Was it just because you thought there might be 

A French fry in my car that I might share? 

Or did you bring a message, 

Garnered in mid-flight — 

Something you saw or heard 

And thought I’d need to know? 

Whatever your reasoning, it meant a lot 

That you took the time to engage with me; 

To stand so close I could see the color in your beak, 

The delicate pattern in your wings, 

And feel the connection of our souls…

A new day

Drink in the colors of the evening sky;

 Breathe in the slow of the coming night; 

Rest in the assurance 

That a new day will dawn 

Tomorrow.

Perfect moments

In spite of all the chaos that surrounds us, 

There are still perfect moments 

If we wait and watch for them;

 Stay present, focused, patient and aware 

Of the gifts each moment may contain.

And still, we persist

May we have the bold persistence 

To continue blooming, 

Finding space 

 Between the rock 

And the hard place 

To be our fullest, brightest selves.

Craving peace

Some days, 

All we crave 

Is a moment of peace, 

A few quiet breaths, 

And the silence 

 Of a cool spring morning.

Invitation to Spring

It’s like an invitation to Spring: 

We line our roads and driveways 

With daffodils, as if to say,

 “Welcome, season of beauty, 

Of vibrant greens, deep pinks 

And cheerful yellows! 

Follow this road to my place 

And together we will celebrate 

 The end of cold and dark.”

Starting to give way

Take time to look beneath, 

At the foundations that support 

The life we’re leading, and notice: 

Things are starting to give way; 

Held in place by a thread 

That may not withstand the pressures 

 From above…

Solace in imperfection

In the midst of the overwhelm, 

Find solace in the delicate green beauty 

Of imperfection.

Daffodil memories

The late afternoon sun ignites my daffodils: 

They dance in the wind, 

Hoping to awaken the plastic goose 

I picked up years ago at a garage sale, 

In memory of Kiwi, the baby goose 

We raised to adulthood. 

All that awakens, though, are memories…

Contemplation

It’s always good 

To make time in your day 

To sit and ruminate; 

To ponder on and learn from the past, 

To breathe in the gifts of the present, 

To imagine possibilities of the future, 

And to breathe out positivity 

 For those in need of hope.

What is true?

How can we know any more what is true 

When so many have embraced 

What we believe to be false?

 I ache, not only for the lives disrupted 

And the years of systems 

 Put in place to keep us safe 

That have been dismantled, 

But for all those who’ve been convinced 

That this is good for our country 

And have yet to experience 

 The negative impact of these changes — 

Or are those just bots, 

Who leave those nasty comments 

On our postings about community?

Rest and reflect

Safe at harbor, 

Today we rest, 

Reflect and recover: 

Enjoy the still waters 

Of peace.

Set your soul alight

Breathe in this vast sweep of sky: 

Let the colors set your soul alight, 

And give you courage 

 To face the task ahead: 

To love, and care, and find new ways 

To love and care again.

Tariffied

Does this ship’s captain know 

The value of his goods increased 

While he was off at sea? 

And what will he take back 

When he returns to his home, 

Or will he return empty, 

To be tossed relentlessly by the waves? 

Will the other ships stop coming? 

The thunderclouds grow deeper 

As the tariffs, the questions 

And the offenses mount up…

Speaking truth to power

Speaking truth to power 

Can be scary, but essential —

 Especially when done on behalf of others, 

Which, for some reason, is easier for me.

 I’ve had my hand slapped, 

Literally and figuratively, more than once 

By bosses who didn’t appreciate my observations, 

But I don’t regret having spoken.

Two clouds

There are two clouds on my horizon; 

Thunderclouds, that threaten all they touch;

 Whose shadows cast reflections far and wide, 

Striking fear into the hearts 

Of all who observe their progress. 

What act of nature will it take 

 To defuse their threat, 

Or must I sit here, powerless, 

Awaiting some inevitable destruction?

Spring sunset

What is so lovely 

As a sunset in spring, 

With the daffodils glowing 

To echo the sky?

Spring colors

Surrounded by the colors of Spring, 

The artist’s brush responds 

With a resounding yes.