Distant wind chimes sing,

inviting us to briefly

pause and listen to their song.

~

A welcome relief,

that moment of refreshment,

from our springtime garden chores.

In this small garden,

why do plants not go to war

fighting over precious dirt?

~

Perhaps kudzu has

not yet come their way and those

plants can live another day.

Sublime shiftlessness

is what I seek but from me

it most often hides.

~

One must have a goal.

Some endeavor to become

superlatively lazy

Argent moon beams shine ,

seemingly as bright as day,

sparkling on still waters.

~

Followed by golden

sun after rain-filled days – gifts

to us from above.

No need to mine for

gold. It abounds all around

in bush and flower.

~

Auric hues abounds

glowing bright in all seasons

if you keep a watchful eye

Some days we want to

lay abed doing nothing…

of course, that’s when duty calls.

~

Often in the form

of what cats, dogs, birds, others

think our duty is.

March arrives, bringing

many colored bouquets. Let’s

hope they’re not refused

~

Although the garden

yields bouquets in quantity,

our poetry… not so much.

Concluding this month

erratic as the season;

hit or miss presentation.

~

Maybe we’re waiting

for leap year to jump into

a proper schedule.

It’s hard to listen

to the whispers of the soul

when ego does the talking.

~

Those insistent shouts

seem intent on drowning out

the wisdom of the whispers.

What use catharsis

when there’s no forward progress

and we wallow as before?

~

What helps us let go

and move ahead is often

a mystery even to us.

Riding this weather

seesaw is definitely

not some child play.

~

Skating with the sun

over the waves of the day

ends with surfing the sunset.

The consequences

of our conceit will come due

with exponential interest.

~

Already interest

has begun to compound, but

we’re oblivious.

Almost seventy

degrees. The sun’s working hard

this February morning.

~

Be not beguiled,

by this sudden balmy bit,

winter’s yet to throw its fit.

Like Hopper’s “Nighthawks”

he sat at the bar, thinking,

“Is this date over or not?”

~

Even when we’re with

others we can feel alone

and crave our own company.

The door is locked. There’s

no way out. Inspiration’s

fled. Perseveration starts.

~

Perseveration

seizes the mind and smothers

creativity.

One wild bike ride’s

infectious adrenaline

writ large in silent cement.

~

It’s as though you were

on that long ago ride, now

cast in eternal concrete.

If you want to get

a strike, you’re going to have

to lower your pitch.

~

Or, change direction

once the batter thinks they know

where this whole thing is going.

A walk in the rain

may seem romantic, but not

at seven am.

~

Romantic, maybe,

in the high heat of summer.

Winter Romance must have snow.

Last night’s warm caress

raised peepers from their slumber

to serenade hints of spring.

~

Also stirred sleeping

skunk who filled the air with some

lingering, pungent protests.

It’s hard to be kind

to others when we can not

be kind to ourselves.

~

It’s hard to accept

any kindness from others

if you’re looking out for strings.

“Small-Group” politics:

twice the rancor of Congress

without meaningful import.

~

Struggles for power

instead of solutions bring

rancor and meaningless mess.

Just when we think we’ve

figured things out life throws us

another riddle

~

These little riddles

conspire to keep us sharp

as we await the great unknown.

As meadows dotted

with columbine in summer,

so too the sea with shore birds.

~

The world is filled with

abundance. We just have to

take the time to look.

“Be good. I love you.”

were a parrot’s final words

to his human companion.

~

While we scan deep space

searching for intelligence,

it’s, right here, regarding us.

Why don’t people care

about the parrots we kill

through negligent indifference?

~

When we consider

only ourselves, we’re cut off

from those whose planet we share.

When anything goes,

can we expect anything

of value to come?

~

Values are funny,

fickle and ephemeral things,

prone to interpretation.

On still winter’s nights

the distant cattle lowing

in chorus with nearby owl

~

The moon fills the stage

with soft, glowing light as we

listen to this night music.

Sun strokes bare branches,

comforting them this cold day.

May we bring warmth and light too.

~

Soon a dappled shade

will be wanted for relief

from summer’s sultry swelter.

Capitol hot air

could inflate nineteen balloons

and blow them all to China!

~

It seems hot air got

them to the Capitol so

they’ve more than enough to spare.