Look,
Look again.
Violet emerges
Petals folded
Newborn hatchling
Barely there.
Look,
Look Again.
Delicate wings
Open to reveal
Petals taking
Flight,
Spreading Joy.


Look,
Look again.
Violet emerges
Petals folded
Newborn hatchling
Barely there.
Look,
Look Again.
Delicate wings
Open to reveal
Petals taking
Flight,
Spreading Joy.


Note: months since my word space felt the stirring to share;
and then there is a moment I desire to shout out;
words I know have a power
Winter words buried in silence,
Spring stirring inner reflections
evokes a shared exclamation.
This morning thunder clapped,
lightning appeared before
dawn skies arrived.
I heard the dogwoods sigh
as a downpour of rain
quenched their thirst
Muggy noontime, sun awakens
Hanging pots of fuchsia,
waiting for hungering hummingbirds,
An unexpected invitation
To stop and see – what beauty
transforms in any given moment.
A portal opens, delights emerge,
Prompting my spirit to
Take in the good,
Revel in the moment of
joy awakening.
Say aloud
Here, hear,
Words to share
I want to lift you too.

Plowed snow boulders along curbside,
Industrious squirrels in hunting gear
Cranky crows, afternoon squabbles
Scattered limbs, crushed acorns and walnut shells,
Two skinny snow figures, standing sentinels;
Under the dogwood, brave daffodils emerge,
green fingers holding tightly wrapped buds.
A slight wind stirs up conversation, twittering
maple twigs and crackling white oak leaves.
Nature welcomes winter’s unhurried pace
While celebrating signs of transformation..

In my now time
The leaves fall
One by one,
The autumn dance
is nearly done.
A single yellow bloom,
In the leaf-buried garden
Gives an Unexpected showing,
Ignites an Unanticipated Joy,
Reminder of an unseen force,
A nurturing presence, while trees
settle for winter and roots ready
to stir up new life
Can you feel it?
All is Calm. All is Right.
Now that is a world
To dream about,
Imagine a time when
the power of peace rules.
Truth is the norm,
Justice takes root.
We enter into yet another winter.
Hopes burdened with the past,
While love bears the promise,
the possibility of a new spring.

Fall paints the morning
Red, orange, and gold;
Breeze brushes my open arms.
Birds sing a gracious invitation
to step into the day,
pause and praise
Nature’s glorious ways.

In the August reach of summer
the coneflower is content
To be, bearing witness
to earth joys, inviting bees and
butterflies to feast on sweet
vanilla scented nectar.
Breeze stirs, flower sways,
neither sweats nor toils.
To be, just to be for
a short while sitting
with the coneflowers,
bathed in the spirit of delight.
Breathe in gratitude,
Breathe out contentment.

Catching the shimmering glimmering
sparkle through the kitchen window,
I accept an invitation to come and see.
Moving through the rain drop jewels
scattered on the green clover lawn
I think, yes, this is good.
A touch of wonderment, a moment’s
release from the day’s difficult whatevers.
I seek the source of the morning gleam.
In new shoots of the kousa dogwood
cupped leaves hold droplets of water
dancing in the rays of a generous sun.
Just yesterday I wanted to recall
the taste of joy. What return
can I make for such goodness?
Gratitude that evokes attention,
Awareness; care, concern;
regard for the ongoing relationship.

Inside the entrance of a museum in Boston is a fountain and the waters rising up carry words. Words begin to form phrases. Phrases swept with light across the floor rise up on the walls as passages of wisdom.
Never before or after have I witnessed such an impressionable image of words coming to life.
I savor words and phrases,
Truth seeking wisdom,
Sources of life, love,
courage, union;
Words that enlighten,
refreshing my desire
for understanding
and my purpose
to live fully, wholly.
Holy, prophet, word-bearer
casting words like seeds;
trusting grace and nature
will find the proper opening
where they may take root.
Here – catch
Love transforms;
Justice sustains;
Oppression destroys;
Grace restores;
Choose courage.
We can make a better word;
We know what that looks like.

Weeks, months pass
with no words to post.
“How about that!”
These have not been
wilderness months.
I connect, create,
explore, expand,
understand, appreciate;
mourn the losses,
cheer the resilient,
advocate for equity.
Splendors appear
outside my windows
postcard ponderings
arrive in the mailbox,
teabags tucked into
note cards from friends;.
Mandala meditations,
dulcimer duets,
long walks with my
rescue-in-training
Then a March stirring,
flow of words appearing
on red tips of maples.
Yes, how about that!

My Glory Be Year
Dissipated in Dis-ease
Gathered up in Love
Being home alone
A solitude that settles
Like a day of grace.
Virus imperils
Body with deep aches and pains
Slow recovery
Sadness marks our days
Counting those lives lost, failed dreams,
Life won’t be the same.
Sun, rain, summer days
Long walks detouring around
Changing horizon
In March sycamores
leafed green, today a golden
arch marks time and change.
Anticipating
Fall, harvest traditions masked
With disappointment
Holding together
In our trials and triumphs
We are not alone.
Mercy, gratitude
Good things zoom into close view,
Feasts for Diversion
Inspired by Brian Bilston FB “Year to Date”
