gentler selves

gentler selves

more at peace within

accepting of darkness

and imperfection

more at ease in their bodies

and aware of their own skin

as their only true covering

are slower to anger or judgment

quicker to forgive

to allow compassion

which nourishes peace

masterful orchestration

hark! nature’s mastery

of the blend of sound

of all the calls, chirps, growls

grunts and roars in a wilds

few if any overlap in pitch, tone, timing

each communication can be heard

by its others

ah! that humans could learn

their true part

cover

 ‘each person wears only

his own skin’ is not gospel

among fashion designers

but does sum up the reality

of our moment

at the pearly gates

share the seed

seed set out to feed scrub jays

juncos, Steller’s jays, sparrows

California quail, finches

when i’m not looking

is devoured by mama raccoon and kits

unlike the three monkeys

unlike the three monkeys

we have not well shut

our mouths from speaking evil

but we have blinded and deafened

ourselves to the daily unwelcome

and all-too-often peril lived

by more than half our fellow

human beings

as one

an orchestra blends

yet keeps individual

instrument voices

awakening a joyful noise

handbells uncased, set in line

on cushioned tables ready

to be lifted again in easter joy

(after a lot of practice)

the real thing

 electronic meeting is veneer only

not the sturdiness of oak

or richness of mahogany

under the stain

not the warmth and generosity

of supportive friends as eighteen of us

experienced joining in person

for our 6th Writers in the Grove Wintersong

ready to receive

wishing you quietness

to calm your being

to be ready to receive

peace

for we are commanded:

“be still,

and know that I am God”

(un)touched

untouched, we know not we are a separate being

touched, we learn our parts and limitations

untouched, we feel no attachment to any other 

touched, we learn empathy and understanding

untouched, we have no investment in compassion

old hands

chipped, sparkly polish

makes arthritic fingertips

at least fun to see

intrigue

intrigued enough to read past midnight

something i wrote more than a decade ago

a mystery, layer upon layer

so convoluted i cannot guess the end

and it is the end that is missing

as i never finished it - arghhh

mist whispers

 mist whispers

to each blade of grass

as it lifts

from their caress

layered against what’s real

layer on layer

tee, shirt, sweater, jacket

yet chill wind penetrates all

stabbing shivers through my being

inviting me to imprison myself

in warmed shelter rather

than experience Ma’s awe

another way we humans

have barricaded ourselves

against Nature

hushed time, listening

hushed time, listening

anguished for the tale

of love stretched beyond

limits and parting of one

now again two                   

friends with my computer

rid myself of an app

it took hours of words with it

but worth the loss

to able to deal directly

oh, to be easy friends

with my ‘puter!

she raced down the path

 she raced down the path

at the edge of the wood

cleared the gate to the lower field

and was gone from my sight

i watched, hoping and afraid,

to see what pursued her

moments later, she raced

back up the path

i blinked, but nothing followed

minutes later, here she came

four slender legs

running full tilt down

and then back up

and yet a while, she sauntered

into the yard and stood

peering out over the valley

then took off, as fast as she could scamper down into the low field

and later, once again back up

i sat back, chuckling

at the doe’s exuberance

also hoping she could bring

an early spring

toll

fear takes such toll

making me huddle

rather than stand erect

restricting my limbs

when i should reach out

keeping me muffled

when, for once, i should speak

perhaps i should wait

until what is dreaded

touches me

instead of cowering

in anticipation

non-eqilibrium

funny how frightening

non-equilibrium engenders me

leaning toward walls

with each step

bumping into walls

to keep from falling

walking along

and suddenly veering

standing stock still

knowing i need to be down

but refusing to collapse

having already broken a rib

falling hard

even funnier

that it’s been my mind

that’s defined me all my life

and now my head

that’s going to kill me

doe in yard

so still, i missed her

twenty feet from me

legs tucked under

facing east, waiting

as i, for the morning

sun to grace and warm us