Little fuzzy caterpillar
was jogging lightly
down the branch
of his favorite bush
His brow a little misty
his cheeks a bit pink
All those little feet
in synchronous movement
“Like a well oiled machine, ” he thought
Then he tripped on a tiny twig
Ah, well – so much for perfection…
sometimes it looks like me
there in the glass
sometimes it looks like opposite
a clash
A mirror for you
looks like your past
there in the glass
looks like someone else there
All that glitters
cannot mirror for us
like loved ones can
All that shines
is not necessarily clean
Mirror of mine
what better way to see my progress
I see you as you see me
and back a step we see we
Love looks at love
Love is all love sees
Down the lane of sticker bushes
where juicy berries
are plentiful in summer
just now tiny buddings appear
And the path meanders off
for a season or a lifetime
toward the wooded part of my mind
Wild and overgrown with song
in full summer it had been
Now sullen and mysterious
yet quickening again
Lumbering bear
was slumbering not long ago
Sticks sensitive snout
in hidden places
Searching out early food
meanders past nonchalant
respectful disinterest
Scruffy fur begging to be touched
grumbly growly intensity says not
Imagine hugging, heck, riding
aware of muscle and sinew beneath fat and fur
Bear blessing
Thank you, brother…
The woman with the wild hair
and a moustache
Helped me when no one else
was even looking
Took me under her wing
in the good mom sort of way
With pure humanity
and a spot of compassion
Wove me past corporate
into the heart of the matter
Wild hair flying in undeclared breezes
and smile that never left
All the fella’s are busy
working the pile…
Let’s face it
it’s been winter, soggy and wet
chilly and dark
And still each new offering
has been plentiful and juicy
So, the fella’s are busy
wearing no hard hats
Yet many all feisty
with armored backs
Turning out rich soil
from the leaves that are stacked
