Brave explorers

I am in awe of the brave explorers 

Who carved a path between the mountains, 

Trusting that their labors 

Might someday bring them 

To a significantly better life; 

 A land of milk and honey.

Morning observations

Waking to such beauty, 

Emanating from a central point 

That actually doesn’t coincide 

With the placement of the sun, 

We can observe and conclude 

That influence and power 

Need not be congruent, 

And there is beauty in bending 

And reflecting the source 

Into forms unique to the times.

At the end of the tunnel

Somehow, as we continue to glide 

Down what seems to be an endless tunnel, 

We have to trust 

That with time we will emerge 

Once again into the light…

Farewell to New England

Evening dusts the city 

With her golden light 

As we bid a fond farewell 

 To our east coast friends 

And hope to meet again 

In kinder times.

Ready to come down

While all around it teems with life, 

 Shared purpose and collaboration, 

This looming tower reeks 

Of death and destruction; 

Some poison at its roots — 

And will surely topple soon.

Evening peace

Evening, 

And peace settles on the river 

As darkness deepens the colors 

Hidden in the sky. 

Rest, breathe, and recover 

From the challenges of the day.

The winding road

The straightest path to your future 

May not always be the wisest 

Or most appealing…

The future awaits

The future awaits: 

You have only to open the door..

Assumptions

Our clarity of vision’s become 

Overgrown with assumptions,

Prejudice, ignorance, 

And pre-conceived notions about “the other.” 

Whether that other’s a different color, 

Nationality, sex, or party, 

We’ve built this life together 

And this network of false beliefs 

Could tear it down. 

It’s time to strip away 

Those judgments and presumptions 

And reveal the truth beneath:

 That we are one.

How many books?

No matter how many books you read or own, 

They won’t teach you quite as much 

As simply living and interacting 

 With your fellow humans, 

And listening: both to them 

And to the promptings of your heart.

Go with the flow

May compassion and joy 

Flow into our hearts 

Like a glorious waterfall 

 And spill over into all 

Whom our lives touch.

Drinking it in

Like a bee on a flower, 

We buzz through our days 

Savoring those sweet moments 

When everything seems 

To fall into place.

Wildfire Season

I’ve been building little barriers, 

You know, 

Like stones around the foundation of a house, 

In hopes 

That the embers of old arguments 

Won’t drift too close, catch fire, and destroy 

 The carefully constructed conventions 

That make it possible 

For us to live in harmony, 

But you keep adding fuel to the fire.

This butterfly of a moment

Look closer, 

And see what you might find. 

Hold your breath, 

Still your motions, 

And let this butterfly of a moment linger 

Long enough to teach you 

Whatever it is you need to learn today.

For all the lakes and forests

In gratitude 

 For all the quiet lakes 

And forests in our country; 

That they may be protected 

 And survive the depredations 

 Of our thoughtlessness and greed 

And continue to inspire us 

To strive for calm, compassion, 

And peace.

Morning

Morning, 

And a new day dawns.

Colors grow, glow, and fade

Like love, to be born again

With a kind word, a gentle touch,

A thoughtful action,

Bearing light and color

Back to the wounded heart.

The pause that refreshes

Sometimes it’s good to pause, 

Take a deep breath,

 And become attuned to your surroundings; 

Get to feeling grounded and centered again.

Collaboration

Though the rocks seem inhospitable, 

Cold and hard, 

Somehow the plants 

 Seem to grow and thrive around them, 

And together, the firm and the delicate 

Tell a tale of cooperation; 

A marriage of strength and beauty 

That warms the heart and pleases the eye.

Life’s a labyrinth

Life’s a bit of a labyrinth: 

You can see where you’re trying to get to, 

But the path you’re traveling 

 Is not exactly direct. 

Have faith, keep breathing, and trust 

That where you are now 

Is where you’re meant to be.

Sharing the spotlight

Just as different flowers on a single stalk 

May bloom at different times, 

So, too, must humans wait 

Until it is their time to bloom, 

And come to understand the charm 

In serving as a backdrop 

For the others on your stalk, 

While knowing with assurance 

Your opportunity will come.

For all who suffer

For those days when you feel 

Like nothing’s going nowhere 

And no one would miss you 

If you just stepped out into the void 

And disappeared completely, 

Please take a minute and breathe in 

A breath for all who also feel 

Discouraged and depressed, 

Then reach down deep into your heart 

And find whatever spark of joy remains 

And breathe it out: a gift for all who suffer.

Stop and smell the flowers

It’s never a bad idea to stop and smell the flowers, 

Even when the flowers don’t exactly smell, 

Because to take that sniff requires you 

 To take a breath, slow down, 

And then become, however briefly, 

Present to the beauty that nature has to offer.

Taking a chance

What’s life, without a little mystery? 

An invitation to explore, 

An opportunity to try something 

That’s just a little different… 

It’s so easy to assume 

 That the way things always were 

Is the way they’ll always be: 

Why risk a possible fall from normality?

Divisions real or imaginary

And when I saw how the cloud bisected 

Both sky and sea, I found myself 

Feeling the echoes of our divisions; 

The painful split in our unity, 

And wondered: is ours, like this, 

Simply a reflection of the times? 

Or does it — as I fear it may — 

Divide to the depths of being?

Always making choices

I woke to an amazing morning sky 

And now my non-zen mind 

Wants me to choose: Which pic is better? 

Before or after the sun has risen 

And the mountain fades to smoke? 

So worldly, that mind, always dividing 

Into right and wrong, better and best… 

When will I fully comprehend 

The indivisible unity of being?

Bright side

Let us always seek to find 

The rose amid the thorns.

Artful practicality

A museum piece, to be sure;

 A reminder of times gone by, 

When craftsmanship was a value, 

And we spent our time, 

Not staring at our phones, 

But creating; beautifying,

 Blessing practicality with art.

Inspired to be light

As somewhat of a sunset connoisseur,

 I didn’t find this sunset that impressive, 

As the sun was mostly buried in the clouds. 

But then I looked again and saw 

The power of the light: 

 The way that it reached up and through 

 The gray that weighed it down and found 

A way to light the blue that lay behind — 

An inspiration for us all to still be light 

Though we’re weighed down 

By all the darkness that surrounds us.

American Eagle

Seated at the top of the tallest tree,

The eagle’s always on the alert for prey 

And views us useless humans down below 

With little interest, and possibly contempt…

Protection

Who taught you that you need 

To hide your beauty behind a screen; 

That protection will always be more important

Than letting yourself be truly seen?

Cry for help

All nature, 

Reaching out for help, 

And we’re too busy on our phones 

To notice…

Appreciate variety

I’ve never understood the urge 

To reduce the world around us 

To a single color.

 For me, the pleasure I find 

In my neighbor’s garden 

 Lies in the mix of styles and colors; 

The variety of scents and shapes —

 Especially when echoed 

 By the colors in the sky…

Ornamental cherries

And still, despite the changes in our world, 

The cherry blossoms turn to fruit 

And glow like Christmas lights amid the branches.

Love from a distance

We share our yard with so many furry animals: 

The rabbits, and the squirrels; 

The racing fawns, the does, and the four bucks 

 With their fuzzy horns, 

The neighbors’ dog, and the horse 

That once came galloping through… 

I long to stroke them all the way 

I soothe the kitten on my lap 

But sometimes love is best shown from a distance, 

With our eyes, our thoughts, and hearts; 

Not with our hands.

Look up and out

Just because you feel that you are caught 

Between a rock and a hard place, 

That doesn’t mean there is no path 

Out of the situation; 

Only that you may well need 

To look up and out 

 To find a way to extricate yourself.

The swallows return

This is the fifth year the swallows have returned 

 To their nest, across from our front door. 

After their second year, 

We painted the house gray 

But left a few bits of yellow 

Rather than take down the nest. 

It’s worth the mess they leave on the steps below 

To see their little faces

And hear their little voices!

Courage to be you

It takes courage to be you; 

To be the one spot of color in a gray, gray world; 

To be the one red poppy in a summer-brown lawn; 

To be the one voice of love in a hate-filled room. 

May you find your way to others 

Who will join you in your quest to voice what’s true.

Welcoming fawns

Good morning, little ones, 

And welcome to our yard! 

Though we’re sad to see you eat our plants, 

We love to watch your joyful dance.

Glorious day

As the sun peeks over the mountains, 

Gilding the water below, 

The Eagle cries and the fawns race by: 

Another glorious day.

Grace and imagination

Our town has a new old car museum, 

Filled with charming vehicles

 From the early 1900’s, 

Many modeled on the carriages 

From horse and buggy days; 

Most built by tiny companies 

 Whose names are unfamiliar now 

Because they didn’t last. 

I imagine the excitement 

 Of those early days and marvel 

At the grace and imagination 

They built into their designs.

Mixed feelings

The yellow bush lupine 

Is not a native plant, I’m told, 

And is considered invasive, yet 

Each year I revel in its beauty 

As its golden blooms adorn 

The grounds around our lighthouse, 

And find I have mixed feelings about 

Our efforts to exclude 

These grace-filled immigrants…

Becoming peace

What could possibly go wrong 

On a day that starts like this? 

That is not the question: 

We really should be asking 

How we can become this moment 

And carry it into the world, 

Bringing peace 

To all whose lives we touch?

Enraptured

An irresistible sunrise 

Pulled me out into the yard 

And across the lawn 

To the fragile edge of the cliff 

We’re told we’ll lose 

At some unnamed time 

In the hopefully distant future. 

But I can’t think of that now: 

I’m too enraptured 

By the colors in the sky.

Why?

Art can be so intriguing: 

Why would someone 

Build a phone booth 

Clad in cedar 

And fill it with 

 A meditative rabbit 

Pensively holding a phone? 

But then “Why?” 

Is a question I seem to be asking 

 All the time these days. 

Why?

Faces in the trees

Can you see the faces in the trees? 

To me, they look worried, 

As if they trusted us 

 To treasure and protect them, 

And they fear we may have failed.

 I fear the same…

Temporary losses

Pink and orange streaks 

Dance across an empurpled sky 

As an evening shared with family, 

Love, and laughter draws to a close. 

Yes, these are hard times: 

Illness and poverty the dark clouds 

Some must bear, and yet 

Affection and respect 

 Express themselves in teasing; 

The rosy edges that help lighten 

What we pray will prove to be 

Temporary losses.

On the fence

On close examination of this photo,

 You’ll discover

 That the reason this house can feature 

So many lovely flowers

 Is because they’re all protected From the deer’s depredations by a fence —

 A choice we have chosen not to make, 

Which leaves us largely flower- free.

Life’s interruptions

Life’s like this, from time to time, 

Like walking through a forest, dark and deep 

And then a patch of light appears, 

And maybe even something beautiful,

That doesn’t fit but somehow still belongs 

And cheers beyond all measure…

The sunset threat

Like the rhodies, 

We live with constant threat 

Of sunset; with the knowledge 

 That all things are subject 

 To change and loss; 

That petals and leaves 

 Turn brown and fall, 

That skies turn gray and blue again 

And so we celebrate 

 What joy we find in Now, aware 

This pleasure must also pass 

While others will emerge anew.

A sea of daisies

T'would be good if I could 

Be a boat afloat 

And sail on a sea of daisies...