The Wounded World

When Justice redefined itself as Peril

Leaves lying in red and yellow splendor

on the river

sank to the bottom to become silt

Whitest snow fell early

snuggled against doors and windows

closing off sunlight bearing tales of deep winter

When Tolerance redefined itself as Zero

pages of the dictionaries caught fire

amidst cries of spontaneous combustion

weapons began polishing themselves

for who would dare touch them

Love became Lost

Hope became Fear

in the seasons of triumph for those who no longer acknowledged people as people

if they were not born in the right place

Where oh where are you

author of goodness

Someone said they traded it all for Peace

Did you awaken in darkness

teeth clenched

tears leaking from the corners of your eyes

Did you ask

where is my cape?

where is my light saber?

where are all my very best words?

Why Poetry

 I belong to the shoulder seasons

those times of luminance wherein the air changes colors

We each have our place 

those boot resting niches

If we can each see ourselves 

in the twilight in the fullness of the moon

wherever despite the brightest sunlight 

there are no shadows 

If we can shout our amazement 

at the blackened eclipsed sun

we might find our peculiar truths

we might rediscover those parts of self we dropped on the way to this place 

When you look into the waters of the breaking waves

there is no reflection 

unlike the face that looks back from still dark ponds

What has changed contains outlooks not to be set aside 

not now

on these times of uncertainty and vast confusion 

where we stand on the same brink of what lies ahead

mostly convinced we are each elsewhere 

Possibly seen in another time

 The Earth is Plainspoken

Once I knew what the trees know

Connected root by root 

Their underground messaging 

Accepting mysteries

Once I knew what the fish know

Earth shaking water splashing

Deep diving then just swimming

There is deep change upon us 

The world stays the same

Until it does not

This is what volcanoes tell us

This is where we are at home

Where the sky bleeds in beauty

Oceans sigh 

We are simply creatures seeking meaning

Where is the meaning in the stream

What do wildflowers do

Do we speak the language of metamorphosis?

Things They Say

 Live your life as if it is the only life 

Drink the Negroni - drink two

Buy the boots - those red boots with the stitching

Show up for the eclipse 

Drive that convertible

Swim in the ocean every chance you get

Shake the pebbles out of your shoes

Learn the names of trees

Raise your expectations like kites in the breeze

Live in a way that you trust yourself to do right

Find laughter

Stomp in piles of fall leaves

The list goes on forever 

Old style love

 Love in the crumbling years

brings to mind those trees with gnarled trunks

their skin cracked 

branches gone leaving nature hewn resting places

sparrows alight there 

life sap finding its way through old twigs 

feeding new green leafing out

Old trees their roots entwined

having shared their stories

each wind inspires their dance

that dance never grows old

Amid the surface roots poppies grow

mosses appreciate damp dewed mornings

moonlight lost amongst the shared canopy 

tells tales of wandering the sky

there to observe the building of pyramids and canals 

Telling us this

time might well be infinite

as love 

#NaPoWriMo

What to do with secrets

 NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo

A poem a day for the poetry month of April

The sky at first appearance gray as any white car

left out of doors for a dry season

collecting a layer of dust

then as you look longer

the sky becomes more like marble

irregular white above gray

where closer to the light cast by the sun there is brilliance

Today is cold spring without ice here near the river 

while a few miles north a fresh blanket of snow lies over everything 

here overnight grape leaves have opened a full inch

lilac buds though like sleepy eyes trying to stay closed

It is said it will freeze again here this month

if so today is a warning to still tight buds to wait

there is a time for casting aside caution 

a time for revealing what is closely held  

or to hold back a bit longer

As for secrets

your people might think them delicious 

until they swallow them and discover they are thorns

better ground into dust and swept out with detritus 

of all used up things

#NaPoWriMo

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 

🕊️