I watched out the sun-roof,
As we drove towards the city,
As millions of Diamonds spluttered,
Dimmed, Agony, Faded, Monotony -
Blinding traffic lights, tranquility lost.
Someone tell me we haven't lost sight.

I think we have something to learn from a lot of things. Things we take for granted, and don’t think twice about. Things like snowflakes…and hairbrushes…and candles…and glass…and rain…and sugar crystals… And asphalt.

mist hangs suspended
bewitching, elusive
drifts over the soybean field
reaching up from the neighbor’s lake
reaching, rising
a breath from a soul

the moon is a mirror
a sliver less than full
a mirror of your inside
warmth, wildness, wonder
and room to grow

Here’s something random that jumped out of me the night before last, as I was sitting idly in the dining room, in front of my sister’s laptop, looking out the French doors and watching the day die… I figured it could be my July contribution. And for August, I’m going to have something revolutionary.

I walk slowly up the hill. The chilly wind sweeps down from somewhere outside this world, and rushes past me in a flurry of illusive wonder. Out beyond the little patch of green I stand on, the trees stretch out in rolling splendor to the horizon—and slowly, slowly they’re turning crimson, and orange, and gold.

Wandering by the pond
I stop and see
The form of me
There, looking back.
Like a magic wand
The wind has moved
The pond and proved
Another world, beyond.

Wandering through the grass
I look and see
Up above me
The sun's bright globe.
And there in the pond

I sit here watching the brilliant white sheets dance in the wind, illumined by the warm sun until their whiteness blinds you.

Behind them only the bare brown and grey of the early April woods.
Beneath them the grass, still suppressed by Winter's chill, a faint dead green at best.
But I hear the sound of geese, coming home.

I love the feeling that comes when it's a cool, breezy evening and you go outside and you stand on the cold grass, in bare feet, and watch the sun go down…
Or when you walk across a beach after dark, and just listen to the water and watch the stars, in bare feet too…

BRISTLECONE PINE — 10/22/03

The mountain is tall, and rough, and stony.
It rises like a giant of strength and endurance, from the green land below.
Away toward the very point of its summit all life seems to have gone, shrinking away from the wind and the rough ground.