Endangered Species

  Eventide   The shadow of approaching night        lies soft and sinuous in the valley...   A new moon smiles a crooked smile      while a single star winks a welcome...   Already I have forgotten the day’s disputes       its tiny victories, its nagging concerns...   Peace sweeps over me like a gentle wind;       you gather me in, Lord, and I surrender...   I fear not the coming darkness      when you surround me singing love songs...   in the hush of the day’s ending...      in the still of eventide. Photo Credit: Slim Lakka - Upsplash          

  Mother of All Mothers Lie down sometime on the naked earth and listen for her heartbeat.   Do you doubt she has one?   Mere words will not convince you— you must hear it for yourself.     So come lie down on the naked earth;   embrace the mother of all mothers...   Listen for her heartbeat—   your  heartbeat... my  heartbeat the thunder of all life...     Can there be any greater miracle  than being alive...and loving it? Photo Credit: Wes Hicks - Upsplash    

The Circle   I remember watching you sleep and asking “What if you die?”          what will I do?     where will I go?     how will I keep on living?   I know the answers now... I did not die when you died          the sun kept rising     the wind kept ruffling the sea     the rain wept silvery tears   you left—no!  you are still here…   somehow, you are still here       in every moonbeam     rustle of leaf     roll of thunder      scent of rain      in every spill of summer light...   in the night I breathe you     you breathe me       sigh my sighs     smile my smiles     dream my dreams...   the circle opens an...

Different Gifts For no good reason that I can see...   my little dog woofs a warning— telling me to come.   Come now!   Now. Now. Now   His eyes say:   Can’t you hear it? Can’t you smell it? Can’t you see it?   He doesn’t understand our gifts are different...   No, I can't always hear,  smell or see what he can.   Nor can he know what I know.   Nor can I know what  you  know.   Nor can  you  know what  I  know.   That’s the thing, you see. We each have different gifts—   different points of view.   Doesn’t mean one is wrong, the other right. Or vice versa.   I’m trying to explain this to my dog.   Haven’t had much luck  explaining it to humans—   or even, sometimes, to myself. Photo Credit: Simona Sergi - Upsplash

  Catching a Poem   This moment caught will not come again or if it does... it will be wearing  new arrayment.   Quick. Mustn’t let it get away or I’ll never learn the truth it might  have taught me.   Isn’t that reason enough  to write poetry— to learn our own truths? And in moments of wild abandon share them with others?   If you need one, Here it is... Don’t let your losses stop you from surfing new waves of gladness.   That image came to me while writing poetry. It came from nowhere... all on its own. Now I give it to you—   Just be happy, will you?   No matter what happens in our loss-prone lives, we must strive to catch the next wave of happiness.   It’s why we’re here, isn’t it?   Did any of us come for the sake of being miserable? Photo Credit: Oliver Sjostrom - Upsplash  

A Rainy Day   The clouds tumble down the mountainside to weep in the valley, drenching everything.   The air is thick as honey and twice as sweet.   The mourning doves console themselves,  softly complaining of this inconvenience   but I cannot sympathize...   Drought has been stalking this land; rain is as welcome as a lover’s embrace.   The earth opens in weary gratitude unfurling withered leaves in welcome.   Tinder-dry grasses reach for this wet  wild intimacy with a neediness I share.    My own wilted self is waiting...wanting    Send me some rain.    Oh, send me some rain.   the kind that bursts a bud  closed in on itself protecting—guarding     ...into joyous bloom!  Photo Credit: Inge Naria - Upsplash  

Asparagus and Blueberries   Today at the grocery store     I paid for items never received. Somehow, the bagger missed the asparagus     and God forbid—the blueberries.   I discovered this when I got home     to find them nowhere in my bags; my cauliflower tortillas? Also missing     but it was my lost asparagus and blueberries   that cracked my composure.     I returned to the grocery store where they looked at me as if I were lying.     Right up until this moment   my day had held many enchantments.     How quickly I forgot them when I focused on how I’d been wronged.     Something must be wrong with me   that I care more about unexpected losses      than I do about unexpected gifts.  In my angst over lost blueberries     I forgot the sunrise that glowed...

Firecracker Bush     My life is like a firecracker bush   exploding tiny red flowers   heart-lifting and lovely    amidst rambling unlovely stalks   that seem to have little purpose   beyond the beauty of those firecrackers...     How I love those dazzling moments   of joy, adventure, excitement, insight,   those flashes of sweet contentment...   Truth be told I live for them—   tending and cherishing each one.     Yet, without the humble, modest stalks   patiently persisting against all odds  when life turns dark and doubtful—   beset by battering winds and rain     could there ever be explosions of magic?    

  Wild Places   The wild places the lonely places the far places   may call you   and when they do—go!   Your longings clamor for sacred reasons; it is your soul  begging you to go...   Listen, dear one, you were not made for bunkers of concrete and windowless rooms   nor to stare endlessly at flickering pictures trapped in a tiny box...   You were made for so much more—   The wild places are calling ...and you must go! Photo: Waimea Canyon, Kauai, P. Daoust

  Hurts   When you hold your hurts to your heart and nurture them with your tears   do you imagine they will ever go away?   Or will they grow like vines entwining entangling—taking over everything   strangling your contentment  suffocating your optimism?   Refuse to give life to that which kills you inch by inch, word by word    tear drop by tear drop...   Let go of your hurts   before they hurt you so badly you can no longer remember   that you are loved and you are here...to love. *Photo Credit: Kelly Sikema, Upsplash

Wondering   if you see me one day sitting and staring out to sea I beg you not to call me away—   I am counting the waves rolling in the grains of sand the tiny seashells swirling in the crash and tug of the sea   pounding at my feet   I am wondering at my place  in this majesty outspread— where I am smaller than the smallest   in all this wild immensity and grandeur yet there must be some good reason I am here to wonder about it   haven’t you, too, wondered?   come sit beside me hold my hand—hold it tightly share the awe, the swift intake of breath   feel the rush of gratitude and glory knowing there can never be a moment more in harmony with life than this one   when love-struck humans may sit wondering   if all God’s angels aren’t fluttering their wings drenching us with light and holiness  singing hosannas in the sunlit air.