Out on Edge of the Branch

Yesterday, found myself so deeply planted
Could not find how long the root,
Wrapped around dry stone so deep—
Underground resistance to my growth.

Last night it rained.
I hardly felt the drip, so tightly packed,
Firm ground kept parched,
No laughter in hard heart.

Today, I prune the branch,
Uproot foundation’s core with tender care,
Pinch back dead growth that
Saps away my strength.

Tomorrow, new shoot will grow,
Blossom forth honey sweet,
Sun as music to green leaves,
Attract both butterfly and bee.

Soon fruit will ripen on the branch,
Nourished by deep soil and Sun,
Water given by weightless cloud—
Soaking rain to please my thirst.

When you walk by in weeks to come….
Pick me, pluck me, drink my juice.
I’m yours for the asking, basking
Out on edge of branch, ripened by warm Sun.

Pomegranates, figs, pears or peach—
Squeeze me, caress me, then bite and taste…..
Rich flavored bounty for your feast,
My fruit like honey in summer heat.

Too Many Nights Without Stars

Off on the right, just out of reach of light
Where darkness swallows human sight,
Animals of the night rustle in chorus.
I hear them moving, breathing, howling
Far out in saw grass, among shadows
Where the soil is black from runoff.

A hundred yards away stands
Old ash, where eight years ago
I carved our names in the bark.
Measured inch by inch your height, still growing—
Back there in the past when you were always young,
Still played on the rope swing by the lake.

I have no appetite to go there now….
Too many nights without stars to mark the road….
Back when summer’s Moon was warm and full,
At beginning of solstice— even then
Growling spread out as cloth in gathering dark.
So easily seduced by tender memories,
We were both blind to the danger waiting
Where wood, meadow and ocean roar,
Finding blood thinner than salt water.

Devil’s Tower

There it sits, 1260 feet above the eastern plains of Wyoming,
Known as Devil’s Tower or Home of Bears,
Laid down upon a seabed over 200 million years ago.

Circling around the Tower for ten thousand years or more,
Sometimes a soaring eagle, others days as untempered storm,
Crying in sorrow on the bloodied plain,
Singing mighty songs— one day of praise, the next of sorrow.
Prayer rises from summit of the ancient tower,
Pausing before lifting from solidity of rock to God.

In dreams, it intrudes against dark surface of the mind,
Grey columns splinter, break away, fall in pieces.
Still it floats above clouds, rises to heaven in early morning light.
Sacred to many tribes, it waits in every season,
Close encounter with Divinity as metaphor of ageless Infinity.

Walking into Valley by Moonlight

Moon’s sweet light is not separate from the Sun.
Its gentle radiance is grateful to greater Source….
Just as red wine knows lingering
Taste of grape that grew upon the vine.

What is dance without soles of feet?
Where is song without the voice?
How can one separate thought from words?
Where do you draw line between soul and God?

As for me, I walk into green valley
Late at night with song within my heart—
Sing to stars and feel their touch
Upon skin that shines by moonlight,
Grateful for love inside my heart.

How Can Glory Be So Silent?

Forever it seems, I’m walking the dark road.
Overhanging trees reaching out for me.
Suddenly I see strong blazing light….
How can glory be so silent?
Not even a whisper in surrounding fluid space….

Behind the Sun is the Moon and a billion stars—
Light intense and constant if we have eyes to see….
For now I pause, am seized by peace
Revealing new world both heavy and light.
Why here on Earth?  Why now for me?
If there is a script,
It is written in words the living cannot read.
I cannot imagine Life another way.

Light Descends

Today a light descends,
Glows in form of silent cloud descending,
Waiting treasure hiding behind the evergreens.
How can anyone see such mist
Without new awareness of expanding beauty?

We do not have to drag the world,
Kicking and screaming to witness.
Those with adventurous curiosity
Will discover for themselves the ineffable.
All it takes is open eyes to see,
Ears to hear, secret heart to learn.

Go about your daily work….
Perhaps it will take patience, and maybe not.
Who knows when your heart will break open?
Just stop and turn around,
Pause each day for the miracle
Surrounding you in fullness of time.

Don’t Go Outside

Path on the right is blocked
As is the path on the left.
Now you can sit and meditate—
Discover your way forward
Now stopped by outside events.

Don’t go outside today.
What stops you is inside your house.
Wake up to what’s within….
Your way is hard and steep.
How many dreams lie shattered?

Descend down to the roots,
Shake them where they cling….
Climb to the higher Self,
Caress each tender branch,
Name each naked leaf exposed to Sun.

Burn all broken wood in sacred fire—
Smoke drifting freely in wild air,
Fragrant scent passing into the world.
Stand back and laugh,
But give not all your laughter.
Weep, but give not all your tears.

Know that as you love
You are within the heart of God.
Allow tears of sorrow to rain into Life’s stream
As you are wounded by your own love.
Bleed with joy; sleep deeply upon a bed of prayer—
Find within your dreams your deepest power.
Tomorrow the way will be unblocked.

More Lessons in Quiet Woods than Found in Books

This much I know,  more lessons are learned
Within woods than found in books.
Sit for hours by flowing stream—
Relax as water drains body’s tension.
Stones will teach what
You cannot learn from wise but hardened men.
Here is perfect classroom
Where you can unlearn despair.

Lie down upon rough woodland ground,
Where rotting leaves prepare new soil,
Will sustain and mend the tender heart.
Slowly breathe moist air,
Watch the trembling mist calm anxious mind
As it moves from humble cloud
To dance upon dry skin of brow.

Earth alone will stay the broken heart
As God rests in every stone,
Speaks of what is past and yet to come….
Slowly grows in soft awareness.
Descending light will send its rays,
Reveal a path where feet will find a way.
Here wild love is born, green as moss,
Swift as bounding deer,
Scampering as squirrels high in branches.

And if you drink as thirsty roots or
Open arms in wordless prayer, giving thanks
In finding precious berries, luscious fruit—
Then contentment shall be as sweet,
Crawling slowly as a snail
Until you stand so still you hear
Welcome of cool breeze— whispering.
Voice of birds will sing of love’s desire—
Here your mind will touch a quiet peace.
Sink in silence, build environment for the heart,
Walk in boundless space and be at home.

World Is Getting Its Bath Today

Storm is lashing the world outside,
Hour after hour rain comes down,
Clouds releasing and letting go,
Street poles swaying as gusts of wind,
Whipping the power lines as I watch
Debris gather in floating eddies at gutters
Overflowing the roads, pools of water
Spraying as cars plow through.

We were given warning, yet still
Fingers tighten as hands clench,
Windows closed against absent birdsong.
The world is getting its bath now,
Cleansed by storms and smoking thunder.
Sitting as an ashen shrub, I float away
Waiting indoors for the Sun to come out and play.
The dog warns, “Best not to wait too long….
I have some business to do today….”

I Have Become As Rushing Air

Today the world is more than painting,
Framed by interior eye, intense the seeing—
Each brush stroke of light from Sun charges me.
Paint sings to my blood,
And blood sings back in refrain.
Ah, what marvelous colors blend within the day!

I have become as rushing air, alive….
Voices moving back and forth,
Surrounding atmosphere as breath
Inhales encounters with the green of Spring.
Sunrise, sunset bursting red and yellow
Exhales upon the canvas of the world.
Life is not a series of transactions,
But deeply felt encounters, hiding mystery
As the most profound theme,
Perspective balanced deep within the Soul.