You’re never too old

to enjoy a free concert

on a sunny afternoon.

~

No need to leave home.

Just open the door and you’ll

hear the birds singing.

The first to arrive.

the last to go…uninvited

squirrels at the bird feeder.

~

When they first arrive,

those old crows cackled fury

finding their feed absconding.

As night slowly falls,

the howling of coyotes

adds a note of eeriness…

~

…and when the owls join

with their haunting cries of who,

we shake in wonder.

Slowly shifting mist

adds mystery to the start

of a matter-of-fact day.

~

Shifting mists highlight

just as well as they conceal,

drawing eyes to shape and form.

Humming ceiling fans

and the stirring of the air

gently caress me to sleep.

~

Meows of hungry

cats and whine of lonely dog

ungently awaken me.

May can’t seem to let

go of April and make space

for June’s arrival.

~

Maybe May might think

it has the might to resist

June’s jejune vicissitude.

It’s not every day

one goes to such great lengths for

the chance to thank a mentor.

~

It gladdens the heart

when appreciation is

given and received.

When the cards are stacked

against us, may we find strength

enough to try anyway.

~

Sometimes that stacked deck

should serve as a loud warning

that this path is not the way.

Who will rise to meet

the challenges presented

by the light devourers?

~

Every day, many

meet those challenges, but they

are often unseen.

In between places

can be noisy as they fill

with worrisome thoughts.

~

When it’s quiet there,

some will find peace within them

others build a shrieking void.

Each extinguished torch

allows darkness to encroach

upon our shrinking village.

~

Encroaching darkness

brings with it memories of

former light bearers.

A certain blankness

is visiting our minds, but

we have hope it won’t linger.

~

Creative juices

dry up after talking to

Insurance Claims Adjusters.

Spring rains water plants

with no supervision or

effort from any of us.

~

…and somehow new growth

never gets overwatered

despite their zealous tending.

As I cast about

for something pithy to say,

all I found was nothingness.

~

Nothingness also

is visiting me today.

What is there to say?

A parade of deer

marched across the yard, looking

around, waiting for applause.

~

A turkey quartet

grumbles across the driveway

A vixen slinks by; groupie?

Stark shadows remain

of the late unpleasantness

that once stalked this verdant land

~

We can’t erase those

shadows by banning books or

silencing conversation.

Hafiz reminds us

that blame is a stock which brings

very poor returns.

~

Always practical

Hafiz was, unlike Rumi,

living his life mystically

So many flowers

arrive ahead of schedule;

Will any be left for May?

~

Flowers follow their

own schedules and don’t pay much

attention to ours.

The fields are bathed in

golden light as deer stroll by

and crows critique their progress.

~

Bird-brains oft complain

about the stolid advance

of their hidebound companions.

After a lengthy

and vexing, rainy, night’s drive,

dawn breaks on the beach.

~

Back home the slowly

rising sun shines through the mist

hinting of better weather.

Distant train whistle

invites me to get moving,

but I think I’ll pass.

~

I passed on boarding

that train likewise preferring

to ride rails in the dreamscape.

That gurgle from trees;

sounds like fish, splashing in ponds?

Brown-headed Cowbirds?

~

April seems to be

trying to find a way to

combine parts of March and May.

~

April is, of course,

two seasons’ homunculus.

Winter transmuted to Spring.

Someday we may plumb

Suffering’s abyssal depths

And waken Leviathan

~

Compassion can ease

the world’s suffering without

awaking Leviathan.

As we drove past them

the white dogwoods waved and gave

us a standing ovation.

~

And is it not, thus

due us, in our station as,

Masters of all we survey?

Like long parted Larks

gathered again together,

splendidly they sang.

~

What a joy to hear

again the music they once

made with each other.

Motherly advice –

today is your wife’s birthday.

Take her on a fun-filled date.

~

If there’s any time

After her class reunion

I will gladly heed your advice.

A lucid moment

skitters past and disappears

Into the mounting clutter.

~

Got lost in daily

clutter and thus lost a chance

to write a lucid response.

I’ll never tire

of the youthful leaves of Spring

and the renewal they bring.

~

Warm sun on cool skin

is the way days should begin

not, just yet, summer’s fire.

Writing poetry

demands more observation

but less discipline than prose.

~

Writing requires

devotion amidst a whole

world of commotion.