fingers of moss
entwine the old tree
a lover’s goodbye embrace.
In the Highest
Heaven’s joy
reaches out to us
in an extravagance of colors.
Encouragement
last year’s pinecone
inspires this year’s seedling.
Homemaking
seeds take
feathered flight
for monarchs’ sake.
Union
Mist marries
the mountain
to the lake.
Perseverance
Although it has been ages
since the corral gate has kept anything in or out
it still refuses to let go.
Circle Theory
At each ending a beginning,
at each beginning an ending.
Infinity.
Neighbor’s Light
Before the sun fully rises
the neighbor’s light across the way
is my kind companion in morning’s solitude.
Bunting Season
Even as decay begins to steal away their color
orange leaves wave brightly
celebrating fall until the very end.
Pileated
Red cap matching cranberries
the stealth woodpecker
taps out his morse code.
Old Man Frost
leaves his whiskers behind
when he runs through the woods
chasing moonbeams and sunshine.
The Other Side
Turkeys hurry
to get to the far side
of Thanksgiving.
Yield
The garden’s harvested bounty
carries a weary spirit towards spring
in the colors of dried petals and the promise of seeds.
Remains
Only a tiny ember
of fall’s glorious fireworks
remains in the landscape.
Rock Blossom
Granite grows a rose
with lichen petals and lichen leaves.
The Bird Box
In silent anticipation
the whole marsh waits for
the grace of the bluebird’s arrival.
Preparation
The forest bed is made
and awaits animal dreams
and blankets of snow
Morning Mist
the sun will unveil
today’s mystery and magic.
Awake
I dream
of golden clouds
and painted fields.
Foothold
the ancient ones
leave their footprints
above and below the land.
Ordinary Splendor
In the heart of autumn
the mighty oak, humble and true,
presents the rich variety of shades of brown.
I said
slow down a little, enjoy the scenery.
The marsh is marvelous this time of year.
But he paddled furiously on
determined to miss every enjoyment in his path.
Encounter
Coming upon the cairn in the woods
I knew we were still traveling together.
I added one stone for the two of us
and saw the face of a wise, knowing owl.
Stories
Like the grain in wood
the grain of decay in the fern frond
tells the exquisite story of its life.
Parting Days
there is still enough warmth in the sun
to want to rock on the porch a bit
Slumber
Seeds rest in husk beds
dreaming
of their spring morning.
Visual Feast
My eyes devour
tart cranberries in blueberry blue sky.
Nature’s banquet always satiates my hunger for beauty.
Connection
The bench by the pond
my meeting place with God.
Holy Leaf
in its missing parts
resides another part of its magnificence.
Fallen
There is no failure in falling.
While the descent may be hard
repose eventually softens all difficulty.
This is the grace of transformation.