Winter’s Day

The sky moves as fast as the days are short.
Cold is gathering, gathering, gathering.


Alone in the fields
contemplation holds my hand.
Reverence is my path.


The branches wear snow caps,
fluffy hats of cotton white,
at the behest of old man winter.

Sacred Shape

When Buddha and the Madonna met
their spirits left a sacred shape
a touchstone for peace and practice.

Wind and Reeds

The river wears the weather like a skin
a snake skin she sheds from season to season
She slithers into winter, slowly slowed until dormant.


Mother Nature decorates the pines with garlands of vines.


Naked branches await
their winter coats of white.

In the Valley

In the quiet of the valley
farms and forest prepare themselves
for the demands of winter.


A frozen wave encircles the dormer window.
The tube can be ridden from inside the house
until it is dissolved by the sun.


The cement child with his faithful squirrel
wears his winter cloths
a cap and shawl of snow.


Snow covers the land with quiet,
muting the colors of Fall.
Winter’s paintbrush holds a thousand shades of grey.

Roof Tops

We are safe beneath the peaks and eves
as cold gathers in the big grey sky.