Evening Meditation

Our apple tree is exuberant tonight,

its white blossoms flare within emerald shades

of our big cottonwoods,

and the flashing red finch descends

busy among the bursting white flames,

when suddenly, by a small boy enraptured,

it poses as the guardian halcyon.

Love in April is like this,

measured in flashes

of red wings in trees

and scored in lines of

molten sunlight, pouring

through our knotty fence

into the silky darkness

of our star-drenched night

(4/5/2010)

Kentucky

Image: Fancy Farm, Kentucky

Summer steam

washes us clean

like a warm bath

as we wade through young fields, 

new corn waist high 

to where blue sky 

meets the rustling green sea.

We navigate by dead-

reckoning to the red barn. 

Wary of snakes, 

with flailing stick you flush 

out the tall, quick hares.

Feathers flashing, quail

burst heavenward at 

our clumsy approach, 

but in the dark barn 

we find 

forgiveness.

God's own light streams down 

into fragrant stalls

as wise eyes

regard us.

We reach out to touch.

They nod, 

first in warning,

then with bright approval.

(6 Feb 2012)

Binary

A young child falls

and, laughing, rises to

his mother’s arms.

Rivers of youth

cut canyons

from ancient

bones.

(16 Nov. 2011; Rev 2/15/2017)

First Day of Summer

Blue-jay crouches on the fence,

shredding a web,

looking for an easy snack.

She hops down lightly and looks at me

wondering what I am,

so silent, still,

cannot see my fingers darting,

my restless eyes

fill with her innocence,

curiosity

life,

but finding in me

no threat, no meal,

she bends backward

bony knees and leaps

again to summer’s sky.

(21 June 2013)

Above Berkeley (For Connie)

Past stone houses Along the dangerous road We raced, top down Past the homes of the rich Laughing We flew into the night To the top And when we stopped The March wind still filled my hair And lifted my breath High above the bright city (its streets were constellations  Carelessly glittering Diamonds Cast into black waters) But walking past dark bulldozers Beyond the battered, red, warning sign Our laughter suddenly fell Startled by the silver presence Above the trees. We climbed to the peak As a halo encircled the full moon Silenced at last We heard an almost-human cry. Nearly invisible, we saw them, The plaintive, grazing deer. Image: Deer in the Grass courtesy of Ron Jensen 4/28/2013

The Third of July

Pursuing happiness
I move to the back yard
and in the shade of my umbrella
in the soft, warm breeze,
I sit very still
and hear
the mockingbird call.



I see his tail-feathers
thrust skyward,
waving in avian semaphore,
enticing his mate
to love in the swaying tree,

while stretched on the fragrant grass,
alert ears pointed skyward,
my cat hears everything
and,finding happiness,
closes her eyes.

Black-jay

Black-jay

falls to verdant earth

searching

living soil as

soft rain

soothes the bitter truth

of being.

The Song of New Leaves

In the broad afternoon
high in the tree, they come
they come by the dozens
and sing, they all
sing the song of
new leaves,  
they come, the blackbirds
with red wings, brown
birds with striped wings
they sing, their orange
breasts bursting,
blue wings spreading
wide, enfolding
they sing
while high in the tree
the white dove moans,
swaying in the breeze,
high
oh! high
in that moon-struck tree
she moans
to the moon
nearly consumed
by the sky!
the sky
of perfect blue!