did the sun rise

today slipped into morning

without our golds and mauves

auburns and brilliant yellow-whites

strange to feel the daylight on my cheek

without having greeted the dawn

with due awe

less than the half dozen

six treasured art pieces

selected for my adult children

paid for, shipped, long awaited

the box so tightly secured

i needed my grandson to open

it for me

only to find five, not six

heartsick

we know better

why do we follow

commands to destroy people

when denigrated

this land was our land

 sixteen elk, including a camel-brown youth

and a number of bucks with stately antlers

climbed over and through wire fence

from our lower field onto our front lawn

milling and pawing, browsing on tufts of grass

lifting their heads to stare at my intrusion

as i stepped onto the porch to admire them

tofu seed

tofu in the bird feeder

a new experience

not quite cherished as yet

but evidently intriguing

especially as nearly all else

is covered by inches of snow

gentler selves

gentler selves

more at peace within

accepting of darkness

and imperfection

more at ease in their bodies

and aware of their own skin

as their only true covering

are slower to anger or judgment

quicker to forgive

to allow compassion

which nourishes peace

masterful orchestration

hark! nature’s mastery

of the blend of sound

of all the calls, chirps, growls

grunts and roars in a wilds

few if any overlap in pitch, tone, timing

each communication can be heard

by its others

ah! that humans could learn

their true part

cover

 ‘each person wears only

his own skin’ is not gospel

among fashion designers

but does sum up the reality

of our moment

at the pearly gates

share the seed

seed set out to feed scrub jays

juncos, Steller’s jays, sparrows

California quail, finches

when i’m not looking

is devoured by mama raccoon and kits

unlike the three monkeys

unlike the three monkeys

we have not well shut

our mouths from speaking evil

but we have blinded and deafened

ourselves to the daily unwelcome

and all-too-often peril lived

by more than half our fellow

human beings

as one

an orchestra blends

yet keeps individual

instrument voices

awakening a joyful noise

handbells uncased, set in line

on cushioned tables ready

to be lifted again in easter joy

(after a lot of practice)

the real thing

 electronic meeting is veneer only

not the sturdiness of oak

or richness of mahogany

under the stain

not the warmth and generosity

of supportive friends as eighteen of us

experienced joining in person

for our 6th Writers in the Grove Wintersong

ready to receive

wishing you quietness

to calm your being

to be ready to receive

peace

for we are commanded:

“be still,

and know that I am God”

(un)touched

untouched, we know not we are a separate being

touched, we learn our parts and limitations

untouched, we feel no attachment to any other 

touched, we learn empathy and understanding

untouched, we have no investment in compassion

old hands

chipped, sparkly polish

makes arthritic fingertips

at least fun to see

intrigue

intrigued enough to read past midnight

something i wrote more than a decade ago

a mystery, layer upon layer

so convoluted i cannot guess the end

and it is the end that is missing

as i never finished it - arghhh

mist whispers

 mist whispers

to each blade of grass

as it lifts

from their caress

layered against what’s real

layer on layer

tee, shirt, sweater, jacket

yet chill wind penetrates all

stabbing shivers through my being

inviting me to imprison myself

in warmed shelter rather

than experience Ma’s awe

another way we humans

have barricaded ourselves

against Nature

hushed time, listening

hushed time, listening

anguished for the tale

of love stretched beyond

limits and parting of one

now again two