If you were a tree

Asked to draw myself as a tree, 

I asked my husband while on our walk 

Which tree he thought I’d be. 

His first response was “alive, not dead,” 

And his second was, “Evergreen; 

You never seem to lose your leaves.” 

And finally, “I think you’d stand alone, 

Not in a forest.” 

 And as our walk ended 

 And we came to our driveway 

I saw this tree that might be me: 

A dry beginning, a few setbacks, 

An about face or two but now leafed out 

And standing on my own. 

 It’s all good, and I am home at last.

Ripples on the horizon

As the winter moon ignites 

The ocean at her feet, we dream, 

And wake to find pink clouds and gray ones: 

Ribbons on a cerulean sky. 

Ever changing, ever stable, 

Like our center, that stays constant, 

While emotions, pain and pleasure, 

Wash across our internal horizon, 

Darkening, igniting, coloring 

All our thoughts throughout the day, 

Then fading into sleep.

On art and time

Though I’m in no position 

To criticize contemporary art, 

 I can’t help noticing the difference 

 Between what currently passes for public art 

And the elaborate sculptures of the past, 

Just as I can’t help but observe 

How the sound bite of a TikTok video 

Compares to a Shakespeare play. 

I get that each takes expertise: 

The difference seems to lie 

 In the time expended. 

And so I examine how I spend my own time 

And am saddened to see how much is wasted

Staring at a screen…

A gift to share

There’s something so heartening 

 About the unexpected gift of flowers in winter: 

The thought that someone, somewhere, 

Took the time to grow, cut, and arrange them 

In so pleasing a bouquet, 

And another someone saw them 

And decided I’d enjoy this random blessing. 

I thought I’d share this loveliness with you: 

A pleasant antidote to the cold and dark.

Hope for our future

My daughter spent much of Christmas 

 Adding stitching — magenta threads — 

To this incredible quilt. 

When I was roughly the age that she is now,

 I was teaching quilting in New Hampshire, 

But nothing I created or taught in those days 

Began to equal the creativity, playfulness, 

Technique, or design she’s showing here — 

Which is one of the reasons I still have hope 

For the future of humanity: that each generation 

Can improve upon the previous: 

Become more open and more thoughtful; 

Can devise more creative solutions; 

Can build upon the knowledge of the past 

To build a more expansive and inclusive vision 

 To enlighten generations that follow. 

Yes, I get, that, like these magenta strips, 

Our path’s neither straight nor perfect, 

But overall we are still growing, 

And for that, I’m grateful!

Look up and out

How much of life do we spend looking down: 

So intent on finding 

Our own way through the world 

That we miss the magnificence around us 

And ignore the potential opportunities 

 For learning and friendship we pass by? 

Yes, it’s good to look inward, 

And to be mindful of where we place our feet, 

But it’s good to look up and out as well…

And now it begins

And now it begins: another sunrise, 

Another day, another year, another opportunity 

 To become who we were meant to become, 

To do what we were born to do, 

To breathe, and grow, and hope, and love, 

And fill the world with goodness, and light, 

And walk the dogs and wash the dishes 

And vacuum up the glitter and confetti 

And sit and breathe and make lists 

Of all the tasks that lie before us. 

And all shall be well, and all shall be well, 

And all manner of things shall be well.