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.
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.