A Summoning

This blue heart

    Nestling

In a bed of red,

One plump grape

Washed in Autumn

Sunshine,

      Resting 

In shimmering

     Stillness. 

              Dyad

When, in twos, along a hillside

In summer, butterflies cavort

And orbit around a lazy

Afternoon, I have felt

The gift of wild surprise,

Of sudden grinning that 

Sculpts the moment from wonder

While tiny pennants of purple 

Wave in the breeze at my wandering feet.

Standing at the base

Of these boulders, silently still,

Soaking up sun, then these wings—

Yes these wings that flutter and flirt 

With my eyes and my yearning

For flight!—

Is about as good, as truly alive, 

Yet aware also of death,
As ever it gets. 

Lemaître’s Prayer of the Primeval Atom

There’s nothing 

like a big

bang to get

things

started....

Sometimes,

When the spindly

Flower gives

Up its urgent

Stretching towards

A distant waning sun

A silent pleasing blooming 

In the soil of ease

Begins....

      Pandemic Prayer

Cradle your withered heart,

parched from a dearth

of touch and trust

that all is well,

although damn well

you know it isn’t,

and you shall unmask

a spacious blooming,

your true audacious 

beauty. 

         Welcomings

There are those holy mornings

After dawn’s done her early cracking

From far above and deep below

When everything worth our tracking

Depends upon an enlivenment of coffee,

A mischievousness of crow,

A suddenness of wildflower,

A replenishment of dream,

A wonderment of light,

A stubbornness of hummingbird,

A meandering of friend,

A settledness of solitude,

A fulsome lacking of all that’s low

And rendering soft all that’s tight. 

Early, After Coffee

Wrapped in this blue

bathrobe and Sunday

morning’s stillness,

birdsong 

       dancing 

with your patient 

hopeful belly 

through the open

window.