Let’s pause and shift gears

and maybe even park our

weary bones, enjoy the brake.

~

Frenetic motion

drives us all too fast to see,

much less smell, any flowers

Everybody needs

helping hands from time to time,

especially the helpers.

~

 Sometimes it’s hard for

helpers to allow themselves

to shift and become the helped.

To know and be known

with acceptance and love – what

could improve on that?

~

Sometimes it’s better

to just do what needs doing

cloaked in anonymity.

Flashing open sign

in a locked and lightless store:

apparent allegory?

~

Sell the illusion

of openness. Maybe they

 won’t notice what’s closed to them.

Smoke and counter-smoke

an eternal carnival

house of distortion mirrors.

~

If our leaders have

the integrity and will,

they’ll smoke out the truth.

Is that the song of

Spring we hear or is Winter

singing an encore?

~

The twitter of birds

argues for the “song of spring”.

Winter’s encore sounds harsher.

Spring is aptly named.

It springs back and forth between

winter and summer.

~

Focus on the sky.

Stormy clouds or sunny smirks

will presage coming weather.

The hole gets deeper,

the more frantically they dig.

Soon they’ll need ladders, not walls.

~

And all those who have

done this unholy digging ?

Buried beneath their own dirt.

What colors does Spring

call forth in you as Winter

slowly says goodbye?

~

My heart’s buoyed by

new blue wellsprings bubbling

‘neath this, long, rusty winter.

Stress, tension, and tics;

side-effects of this rat race,

unless we pause to create.

~

 Relief comes when we

stop running races we can’t

win. Then the fun can begin.