Spider

The trees whisper me

into their awareness;

I choose one to sit beneath.

My head curves an arc with ease

to gaze swaying arms,

breathing in their comfort,

sharing their world

on a day to remember

when I finally see our lives as one.

A tiny spider walks across my hand,

stops half way, for a rest,

then carries on.

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A Good Place

 

Mostly I find myself
meandering through the days
foot-loose in a cool forest of time.
I wave goodbye to the running
always in circles till dizzy
with exhaustion, too tired
to simply be,

too tired to stop and smell roses
or watch a bird bathe in a puddle,
shaking itself dry just like my dog;
maybe we could all shake ourselves dry.

 Today I find myself in love all over again,
every moment a passionate kiss,
for one at a time, they’re all we have.
I don’t even care how the weather behaves;
no more chastising clouds or
chasing elusive sun;
they have no hold over me anymore,
all ropes are untied;
it feels a good place to be.

Fluttery Summer Whispers

There’s so much commotion
in the garden today,
nature’s busy town square;
eager bees deep in petunia hearts,
moments of shared passion –
summer’s lust.
Ornamental grasses wave,
coaxed into Chinese whispers
by a playful breeze,
butterflies dizzy with
fluttery-giggle-fits.
A red admiral is stunned;
it’s all too much for her,
fragile wings quiver, exhausted
and she stops, completely used up.
I fear she must be dead,
approach her gently, tearful
holding a sorrowful summer prayer.
But she startles me,
opens her rested wings,
snatches it from me –
kindly of course –
and flies off into the quieter blue.
Perhaps she will save it
for a rainy day.