I caught a glimpse of you
in shoots of grass
and violet flower,
the season of rain
beginning to thin
with glimmers of light
through breaking cloud.
The moon appears
like a deer, telling me
you’ve not forgotten,
aching with desire
for the simple words –
I want you.
The cherry trees softly painted
against the first blue of spring
raise hope within the earth,
our secret wish released
from the dark fold of winter
in a daring flow of pink
upon silence.
What must go for this day to be born?
Something presses upward from within,
grown in the dark and breaking surface
as roots continue down
and vision opens slowly to light.
in the sounds of the forest
and the yearning cry of gull
the world seeks its original Self.
In the hours after midnight
an eloquent umber moon rises,
casting Her image upon the sea
with no concern for witness.
The light shining in my very old friend
is in my grandson’s searching gaze.
Each day I seek and each day I am found.
There is ignorance, there is cruelty
but above all there is life
awakened in the night
to the brilliance as She passes.
Blue grey water in spring light,
awakened by the wind
on a gentle southerly course;
waves marching gently
in a children’s parade
without the fury of winter.
I am the settled stone,
the coastal trees reaching down
and the gulls aloft in a soft breeze,
the landscape flooding me
like the morning tide
with the essence of Her religion.
Waldron Island
Looking into the old wood
something wants to fall away
like a dead branch in the wind,
to let what is new
fill the part of me
spreading growth in rings
of sun and aging season,
rising from the unseen
clean and vertical
with only presence to speak
in the green and trembling forest.
