whispering relief

a gentle rain first whispering relief

could come if we have undertaken

our part in fulfilling the needs

of our neighbors languishing

in this man-caused drought

but we had not learned to see beyond

our own irrigated lawns and desire

for multiheaded- showers in each

of our marble spa bathrooms

or past the label of ‘hoax’ on climate change

for us to comprehend the world craving

for clean water

we glance at the page of luxury jewelry

rather than the picture of a child in a ditch

hoisting battered plastic drum of water

to carry back a mile or more for his mother

to use in cooking

the sleek magazine prints the ditch and boy

in black-and-white, but the jewelry

in sleek color as it knows what we buy

reign on

reign on, unfavored one

in cages suitable

to the damage

you have done

spreading entropy

and mistrust

in others and in

ourselves

watchful

over decades, i’ve watched with quiet awe

 the family tradition of caring for our children

in gatherings by each child being watched over

by a specific adult, who interferes as little

as possible, only slipping in to teach

by pointing out or to rescue from a danger

the child did not comprehend

when other duties intervened, that adult

passed on the responsibility to another who agreed

all this nurturing happened in the background

i’ve watched the toddlers grow to understand

bit by bit and youth take on, with quiet pride,

the responsibility for teaching and protecting

the ones younger than they

the watching has been my incredible privilege

skillful hearer

those who speak and those who listen

each eloquent in one’s own way

but requiring attentive skill of the hearer

which, sadly, is not always active

leaving repetition and volume

to take the place of discernment

respect what you are building on

columns of industrial smoke

mostly white, like pillars

holding up pale pre-dawn sky

man-kind proudly reaching

to build on nature’s unrespected

millions-of-centuries-old foundation

one-on-one

“For one throb of the artery,

While on that grey stone I sat

Under the old wind-broken tree,

I knew that One is animate,

Mankind inanimate phantasy.

(in A Meditation In the Time of War

by W.B. Yeats)

i spoke one-on-one with Paul

exchanging on the depth he evokes

knowing again my care for persons

and wariness of people

a-bornin’

haiku

morning a-bornin’

pale, infant colors hinting

at growing strength, joy

loud laugh

jokester now

but i seldom speak

heart-to-heart

cuts too deep into a mortal

heart struggling with

mortality

skyline speaks

haiku

skyline speaks of pine

as buildings, brilliant neon lights

obliterate stars

modesty clouds

haiku

rich blue modesty

clouds for dawn’s awakening

slip into the day

flagrant golden dawn

haiku

flagrant golden dawn

flinging pink, mauve and yellow

north, south and earthward

laughter and pride

laughter with grands, now young adults

well into their education and careers

able to cross wits and insights with me

difficult to bluff, unaccepting of untruth

so proud of them, although the credit

is due to the wisdom of their parents

richer by far

in this community living

for the laughter at our table

for the barbs given and taken

            with wit and smiles

for the freedom to leave as needed

            for the undisturbed

            haven of our own space

for the quiet words of concern

            and comfort as we lean

            near to be heard by

            only ourselves

delicious

a meal of solid food

after days of gut-twisted pain

ahhh celebration

celebrate Chinese New Year

camelia blossoms

fall to pink-hide koi in pond

sticky rice tea cupped

dragon draped from the ceiling

lunar new year fete

in downtown Chinese Gardens

new year of the horse

haiku

lunar new year births

koi swim under flower petals

Chinese music plucked

wander v wonder

wander aimlessly

hoping to stumble on the rock

that rests on the truth

but learning leans on  

awareness and honesty

to always question

pre-dawn blue

 haiku

before dawn can break

sapphire sky these chill mornings

intense blue of joy

gray dawn

haiku

 all business now

no rosy cheeks, day’s blessing

clouds just split for light

ignoring the gift

haiku

 sorry to give in

to temptation to gripe-whine

while dawn is awing