Spring

Spring unfurls petal by petal
Lavishing colors on our world wearied by winter
Wafting sweetness with each bee’s buzz
Warming us awake as our faces follow the sun

Invigorated
Pelted by rain
Playing in puddles
Serenaded by frogs and songbirds and
The light scent of plum blossoms
Dazzled by the lambent light, the sun’s fire captured
In each clinging raindrop strung
Like jewels along the wild rose vines by the creek

We stream out of our drab and dreary dwellings
Shed our cocooning clothes
Step beyond our boundaries
Emerging vibrant and wide-eyed
Breathing in beauty
Joining in life’s celebration of life
Joy and love and rapture dancing toward the infinite

Rain

Sheets of raindrops
    windblown
       skittering along roads and windows
           pattering against building walls
soaking into the earth.

Plants drink deep.
    Streams swell and quicken.
        Refreshed in body and spirit,
I give thanks.

3/5/12 Life

We dance in time and space,
connecting across the distance and years,
in fluid patterns and networks
like the sworls of lace:
here delicate, there enduring,
here one thin strand, there thick and reinforced.

When we open to the sacred
the design is illuminated and bejeweled
with sun and flame and light
sparkling on dewdrops of living water.
Our hearts are knit in love,
our souls expand,
and we learn and grow,
drawn inexorably to
healing, love, and service.

Beauty and life and love,
awe and appreciation,
wonder and joy and thanks.

Groups

Together
   bound by love and purpose
     growing, learning,
       generating energy that never comes alone,
        attractions and irritations
        rubbing up against each other
           polishing our rough edges
      learning to look from different perspectives.

Together
   woven and built into one organism
      melding and flowing higher and deeper,
       we're more aware, more sensitive, more intelligent,
       our strengths magnified
       and our weaknesses diminished,
a new being
with power to act
and power to heal.

Winter Reflections

Surrounded by clouds and coolness,
Cocooned in silence and winter,
Separated from the warm sun,
What lies waiting, gestating in darkness,
Protected by the dry brown leaf layer,
Ready to burst forth into life?

This is not death;
these somber, drab, darkened days are not
the end of joy and color:
Here is rest, repose, an enforced quieting,
a time to drop it all and deepen,
to listen and reflect.

Nurtured by the water of life,
cradled by the earth,
Our spirits grow wise.

1/2/12 Evening Notes

Birds swirling against the sunset like ensorcelled smoke

Pink peach ruffles flouncing upwards, generously flinging vapor droplets up and away

Tree tracings weaving a sculptured poem against the sky

I stand in the cool night air, spellbound,

Calling for you to share this gift

Tracings 12/21/11

The world limned by light

Objects without 

Laid down in brain images

The light passed through crystalline lens and focused upside down on my retinas

As my eyes’ focus jumps in saccades

Cone and rod receptors activate neurons exuding tiny packets of neurochemicals

And the brain puts together a picture

Inside 

Of what is out there,

Filling in the blanks of the space between the saccades and the blind spots of the confluence

Of nerves flowing from the eye to the brain

And I believe this is truly the reality outside me.

Yet how malleable my memory.

Though when brain is bared by surgeon’s bone saw, knife, and cautery

A small stimulation recreates the exact sight/sound/smell/feel/taste of the moment, as if it were there 

In front of me once again never mind that I had forgotten,

My recall is distorted by so many things, and is

At best an interpretation and subject to gross errors of commission and omission.

I see what I expect to see, and miss what I am not looking for;

“Eye witness” is mind witness, and I may be overwhelmed, confused, inattentive,

Subject to interjections by others, or to strong emotions and beliefs of my own

That I add to my tracings, and then I remember that, rather than the ? original.

And out of all this I learn the best representation I can make of reality, as it peeks in

Through my senses, as I reach out with all my being

To know it. 

This is my world.

Tracings