Emergent Spring

She comes trailing tresses of catkins

skirts embroidered with johnny jump ups

purple and gold blossoms

leaves greener than promises of riches

bold iris swords 

laughing clumps of daffodils 

lilac buds swollen almost to bursting

Precious white bird

unseen for many days

he thrived throughout the coldest months

I will not think of what might have happened 

I celebrate that he graces my life

brings his aura of peace 

acceptance

blessings of all that is 

grateful for his lingering presence 

beyond the earthly being

Claimed by the wild

as we all are

in our time 

vanished it might be into the mystery 

perhaps to return in some form

or not 

🕊️

Encountering Winter

 I walked out into the morning

deliberate in my intent to encounter

winter in its bleakness

gray light bare branches

dried up brown leaves clinging to vines

this is not the white winter I came for

but the flat season that came for me

then a familiar soft sound 

turned my head in another direction

white bird in the land of enchantment 

appears within seconds 

his hello accompanied by rustle of wings

we exchange greetings across species

he brings the wild 

the uncertain

the mystery 

close

he brings all this like the shroud of cold air 

someone brings inside 

from the facts of winter

Solstice

 Not here and not now

yet some winter road tells a story

of the shortest day

the longest night

This snow a simple driftless dusting

it sits lightly upon the trees

waiting quietly for new leaves 

buds tight and shiny

for now bare branches where crows alight

All who do not flee for warmer places 

light the flames

hands made warm by winter grogs in hefty cups

hearts gladdened by what is here

by what has passed

Here is the solstice 

there will be more light tomorrow

Visit by white bird

 The cold of winter is mysterious like cat whiskers 

here the ground frozen into granite 

there soft pliant fluffy soil as it it had spent the night in a sauna 

One morning ice points have formed where water tumbles 

another just as cold only the roof tops show the white signs of freeze

My shovel point is not a spear

it only scratches the ground 

where the tree intends to throw out roots

now enclosed in the nursery plastic pot

red and green coral bells had lain down 

seeming too injured to rise again

yet there they are poking their fine forms out and about intrepid as morning ski patrol in the frigid icy air

The plant I least understand the curry plant

lacy leaves delicate lightest abalone blue

a pair of tiny yellow flowers clinging yet

constant as lichen but soft 

gentle as sparrow’s breath

between the pomegranate and armillary 

Comes now the white bird

amidst a flock of grey doves

he watches as I set his seed near the pond

then saunters across the garden 

remembering where two days back 

the bird feeder fell to the ground

Morning Sky

The captivating morning sky

tips its hat to Maxfield Parrish 

in the New Mexico way

not as softly fluffy 

pale streaks light of the newly risen sun

in the assertive clouds 

hinting at monsoon

over this sere August 

ground dry as an old set of bones

awaiting another painter 

Georgia O’Keefe knew the skeleton 

of this place 

we are defined by escarpment and sky

the birds know it well

as do the grasshoppers and mosquitoes 

coyote and mountain lion

say humans will one day 

give it all back 

to those here first 

wretched nightshade will take over the asphalt 

in an Armageddon of plant assertion

only the sky and silhouette of mesa

will look as it does now

bold and certain in every season

Anniversary

On the occasion of our wedding anniversary in the year of the waning gibbous moon

Did you ever imagine us growing old together? 

Our edges frayed 

so far from youth 

the way we were

is almost two other people

And here we are 

grown together like saguaro and palo verde

we are the centuries 

shorn up by loose soil 

You and me

Inextricable 

Now I understand why the ancients

see people in nature

faces in rocks

beings in the star patterns

Over the eons of being united, we become what we were not

That is, one for all time 

For Robert

Living on the Edge of Everything

 When we lived on the edge of the world 

the mountain so close we breathed in the hot scent of rock 

even with snow clustered in the grasses

our dog howled with the coyote

When we lived on the edge of the world 

volcano so close its hot breath laid upon the air like dragon mist

our fish moved to its rhythms

we danced with the trees 

When we lived on the edge of the world 

ocean so close we heard boulders groan in its night waves

meteors sizzled over head but silent

it was nameless winds that told our story

When we lived on the edge of the world 

city so close its birds adopted us

I listen to them fly their wings sing

do they know the mountain I wonder

are we both wild still even upon the asphalt

Rockets going off in the darkness

scattering light cinders 

I will always remember their reflections 

softly falling into themselves upon the alpine lake on the edge of the world 

before life unfolded 

🎇🎆💫✨