Standing in the woods
It is good to feel smaller
Than what surrounds me.
Without knowing it
We move through impermanence
Each passing moment.
If pain there must be,
Let us compost it deeply,
Turn it into life.
The brambles are back
(Didn’t I trim you last year??)
Life will find a way.
Sometimes I wonder…
Do fallen trees remember
The winds that took them?
Deer come from nowhere
Raise their heads above field grass
Then…evaporate…
Inhaling birdsong
Exhaling sweet contentment
Spring, getting closer.
In my dream I saw
Ev’ry sunrise of my life
Grateful for each one.
The truth in these words:
It won’t always be like this
That can go both ways.
When the day begins
With moss as my feet, and trees
Things just work out right.
A lone mockingbird
Singing in the sycamores
Now it’s really Spring.
I take my troubles
Out into the fields to heal
It works. Ev’ry time.