Whatever you fear
Will someday run out of steam
Well…that’s good to know.
In the half-moon light
A blade of grass shines silver
The magic of night…
If you want to know
What it’s like to lose it all
Look up…ask a tree.
A good walking stick
One that frames the paths ahead
Worth its weight in oak.
I know I can’t fly
Except in my dark safe dreams
That’s probably best.
A crescent moon smiles
Settling into the west
Pulling up the night.
From the Place within
A gentle stirring, new peace
Asking for our trust.
Brushing off the dust
Forgotten treasures rise up
Unwrap and release.
A warm morning bath
Unhurried thoughts laze on by
I need nothing more.
Writing in the dark
Words sliding to the surface
Nothing to stop them.
It’s happening now
Days darkening at both ends
Airing out the quilts.
Maple in the woods
Have you always been that tall?
When did we first meet?
A glittering star
Pulls the sun from its slumber
Time to make breakfast.
Creatures of habit
We humans with our schedules
What if we went wild?
The gifts of summer:
Sweet corn, cherries, barefoot grass
Glittering fireflies.
Praise for well-placed words
Poetry gives the soul wings
Gentle place to land.
Self-care is tricky
It requires attention
To things others miss.
Getting enough sleep
An elusive goal, I know
Must keep practicing.
