In the cave
hidden on the cliffside
Rockfall and rubble
bushes and grasses all around
In that silent solitary place
near the river of my life
I sat in communication
with the bugs and animals
And became more connected
with the earth in the walls
and through the rock on which I sat
silently in peace…
The gardener tends each tendril
for hours and hours
Weeding out some
so the preferred may grow
Lovingly nurturing, tying and feeding
watering and talking
instilling nutrients sublime
And now, the fruits of labor
sweet and succulent
green and rich
Ah, a blessed life
for the one who blesses life
with hand and effort
time and toil
Oh Joy!
Another completion
Another beginning
With but a tiny rest between
The days – the daze
They keep arriving
The variation in flavor only
The endless waves
On a seashore of love
Commence once and ever
Over and over
May as well dig bare toes
Into wet sand
And lick salty lips
in soft breezes
Mourning Dove
sat on the compost pile
Moving her head to and fro
inspecting the sticks sticking out
She’d grab first one
and then another tight in her beak
Only to drop and hop
to another section
Finally, with chest puffed up
she’d found the perfect stick
Flying off with it to build
another flimsy nest
