Quench

drink deeply
from the marvels and mysteries
of ordinary days

Amidst Blossoms

easy to miss
the thrum and shimmer
darting from bloom to bloom

Call Of Attention

their shout
of color rises
from the forest floor

To Be Chosen


flowers await
their moment
in the sun

Open To Receiving


a winter walk
the wood’s gifts of beauty
match every step

Field Rut


demanding attention
birch tree antlers
stand at the field