It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
The value of poetry is that it inspires me to be thoughtful and attentive to life in the simplest of moments. It reminds and calls me to craft some of my own.
Here is a patched up version of my life at the moment:
A Weekend In April (the best destination)
Singing crystal bowl meditation at the Friend's Meeting house
the vibrations lift us up by the ears,
calling my attention to the weightlessness of my soul.
A new sitter for Elliot
Delightful, young, compassionate soother of
parental anxiety and a very shy dog.
Someone to listen to everything about Lego building
and Ninja Art
And game playing.
A blast of sunlight so warm
we wore shorts,
running sweaty through woodlands
waking up the snakes
meeting the Barred Owl in the last rays
of a spring foraging adventure.
Neighbors who invited Elliot for play
every single day.
Let our boy's lonely heart have
many many many friends.
Two gardens tilled and ready
Two sprouts of asparagus giving hope
for a future feast.
Food that becomes a sacred act of
gratitude, daily meals
packed with flavor and strength.
The tall man at a sink of dishes
who loves me.