The first to come this year came with the rain,
Its colors at first muted, dampened by
An early Summer storm whose lighter touch
Enriched and coaxed the purple flag to fly.
Hard Winter, gone now with its tight-closed fist
Of ice and winds that harshly freeze and blow
Seems like a dream from which we wake in fear,
Forgetting what hot Life goes on below.
The snow that makes thick blankets for those months,
The sleet that feels to us like needly knives,
Protects what lies below in soil’s cities,
Cracks open seeds that later send up lives.
What in the moment we call harsh and fear
Projects the beauty and sweet Life now here.
Late Spring’s yellow light
brushes bright unfolding leaves
chimes the evening in-
Praise the persistence of Life
sprung fresh from darkness and death.
Posted in Gardening, Gardening, Usually Organic, joy, Patience, Poetry, Politics, Spring, Summer, Tanka, Uncategorized
When power feeds itself and nothing more
Nor no one else but only its own greed
In never-sated savage hunger for
Its sickly swollen, hollow-hearted need-
Where can we find a quiet, peaceful place
Reminding us how different we could be
If we took lessons from the soilweb’s grace
And, learning so to share, be grown and free?
Clear-headedness to see and understand
How throwing off confusion, anger’s spring,
Can come from soiled knees and dirty hands,
Attention to each good green growing thing.
The interdependence that gardens teach
Creates a mindspace demagogues can’t reach.
The delicate lacing of leaves being born with the dawn –
The gazing out windows in hope of a glimpse of a fawn –
The gray rolling furball of squirrels getting busy on grass
Surrounded by tulips all rising above their green mass –
Potato halves pucker as they sit and chit in the sun.
Rudebekia, asters reach for the light as squash vines run,
All straining toward the fresh air they’re all anxious to feel,
Though for this month only, outside night would all their fates seal.
Spring grasses are greenest and shine in the morning’s cool light,
Arched softly above the wild violets in purple and white.
Golden daffodils and their sweet cousins, narcissus, in bloom
Bring the sun’s own affection and perfume the entire room.
All Pagans, all Christians, agnostics and Muslims and Jews
Receive Nature’s love from the Spring, who refuses to choose.
Posted in Birds and Other Joys, Dogs, Birds and Other Joys, Gardening, Gardening, Usually Organic, joy, love, Poetry, Politics, Songs, Sonnet, Spring, Uncategorized
Out of the echoes and into the void
Where we’re alone and may well be destroyed
Or at the least, then, a little annoyed.
Opening mind and perhaps even heart
Makes us all wiser than at our own start
Even our prejudice may fall apart.
Close up the window that shows a blank wall
Keeps us most ignorant, selfish and small
Hands and eyes open, watch our own fears fall.
All these connections, if real ones, can make
More of us rather than less if we take
Chances and try hard to remain awake.
Natural tendencies to weave a nest
Out of those like us will not serve us best
Though it’s much easier to self-invest.
Open mind, open heart, eyes and hands, too,
Open the world to us, widen our view
Change us, arrange us, maybe make us new.
All you who in your freedom chose to follow,
In hate and ignorance of what would come,
Him whose wizened heart and head are hollow,
Come embrace your consequence and doom.
Chameleon, snake or call him what you will,
He’s pushed you to accept by small degrees
All postures, lies, deceptions vile, and still
You hang on to your hateful fantasies.
Did you really think his shouted hate
Would turn on others only and leave you
Alone to boast of your superior fate?
Did you believe you were the chosen few?
Can you still think that this most hollow man
Will not take from you everything he can?
seedlings curl upward
two tiny green praying hands
begging time to live