Answers
Maybe life
is just a big bunch
of answers
to random questions
like the romance
of the dusky sky
with the gentleness
of the evening
or the sun sinking
into the embrace
of the horizon
with one last burst of light
or every smiling
shadow
that follows us
under the sun
or the shining awe
of your face
whenever you laughed
soul deep
Maybe life
is just one answer
to the question
Love?
Working the River
Nature-made, the river
jumps the banks to curl
the earth in and under
and down,
just as the sea
reclaims its land
from that very first rising
out of its depths
Here, our house stands
bravely facing
that watery uprising,
and so
we work, bringing thick stumps
that once held
towering trees aloft,
to edge the sinking earth
And then come boulders,
rough and heavy, to hold
the banks back, and hug
those former trees,
now stalwart soldiers
standing river guard,
while in between,
the water seeps
Water always finds
an opening,
and we invite it
to flow
beyond our permitted
work, and the house,
man-made, sighs in relief
at its reprieve
At its best, work
does not destroy
but shores up, respects
nature’s pathways,
employs the labor
of man and tree and rock,
and preserves the life
of water, and of land
8/15/20
Lion Stars
Somewhere,
a constellation
of lion stars roar
in pride light
across the night sky,
“We are family!”
Here, constellations
bear the weight
of major and minor
as if stars sing in scales
instead of waves
we’ve forgotten
We’ve forgotten
our stardust souls
once twinkled together
in infinite space
connected completely
by the sound of light
We are separated
by nothing more
than an idea
of gaping emptiness
that we endlessly
long to bridge
And we pluck
from each other
the remainder
of light we have left
like dying stars grasping
for illumination
Look up!
Somewhere, lion stars
roar in pride
against the night
and remind us
we are family
Sky
The sky hears
the musical movement
of every v-shaped stanza
of migration
The sky knows
every bird that floats the currents,
every plane that touches a cloud,
every rocket that blasts past
The sky sings
in a thunderous chorus
and in the soft tones
of raindrops
The sky mourns
every species
that never walks or crawls or flies
on earth again
The sky loves
every first breath
and every last
it has ever shared
Breathe
Don’t hold it in too long,
that breath
that fear
Every worried thought
that sits inside
unexhaled
becomes a weight
heavier
than any virus
Breathe
deep belly
to diaphragm
Round it out
like a baby
laughing
and finding
her feet
for the first time
Don’t hold anything
past one full
in and exhale
and breathe
right through loss
and love again
Baby Blanket
My colorful quilt
of many-toned skin,
is different from yours
and covers me
covers me well,
can you tell?
It keeps me warm
as the earth
when the sun shines down
in olive tones,
a Mediterranean-
Middle-East-kind-of-blanket
I got when I was born
What kind did you get?
Every Flower
Lavender roses last longest,
deep red have a scent of perfume,
the peach hold their colors the longest,
the white ones are largest in bloom
Yellow roses gather the sunlight,
multicolored ones mimic the dawn,
black roses glisten like midnight
with their leaves shining green as a lawn
To Nature, all people are flowers,
her palette of colors in skin,
the gift of this beauty is ours-
to love every flower as kin
Worth It
Rocks yearn
for the watery kiss
of ocean waves,
although that press
may eventually wear them down
Ask any bit of sand
if love was worth
shattering for
and that tiny smooth rubble
will smile under your feet
while it holds
families and picnics
and vacations
and dogs running like lovers
into the waves
The gritty sand
that was once rock
clings to feet, legs, hands,
hair, and thus travels
the world
to be brushed off by towels
and washed away
by hoses and showers
to go wherever
it may, still smiling
at how far love
has taken it,
moved
and embraced it,
shattered and all
Long Evening
In this time of the light,
end of day but before night,
when sun begins its evening sprawl,
our shadows barely show at all,
outlines grow ever duller
while blossoms, serene in brilliant color,
scent of violet, rose, and musk
perfume the air all cloaked in dusk
Under nature’s beauty spell,
we stroll about like all is well
though we wear masks and watch our spacing
knowing the risk that we are taking
may be low, but nonetheless,
a danger that we must address
as day comes to its nightly close,
a colorful palette in repose
We head home from our long walk
passing tree, leaf, blossom, stalk,
houses rimmed by bushy hedges
that may be rounded, or have edges,
other walkers keep their distance
in mutual respect for existence-
if only this had always been
for friends and strangers, lovers, kin
Appreciation for all that nature is,
not sacrificed to human biz,
oceans, mountains, valleys, lakes
clear air and water, for all our sakes,
creatures that swim, fly, crawl, and run,
everything beloved under the sun
from trees and plants, to bees that buzz
let’s keep it all as is, not was
What Grows
What do you grow in your garden there,
from seeds you tended with water and care?
Did they surprise you, when up they sprung,
delicious enough to delight the tongue?
Turnips and radishes, rounded in girth
rooted happily in the rich earth
Snap peas and melons, both with their vines
one travels up, while the other reclines
Potatoes snooze deep in the ground
spreading all over in a manner profound
All kinds of berries, of sweet tart flavors
to satisfy any dessert cravers
Cherries, apricots, plums, are all growing,
figs, Asian pears, their bloomers are showing
Lettuce in pots, and there’s Meyer lemon,
(a rhyme for that word leaves me hawing and hemmin’)
Broccoli, luckily, likes colder weather,
while others reject the chill altogether
Flowers, they flourish already this year,
perhaps knowing humans need color and cheer
All the euphorbia seems quite euphoric,
and the rhodies are practically phantasmagoric
Here in the garden, beyond human woes
snapdragons snap and dance on their toes
Whatever you’ve planted or whatever you’ve not,
the seeds of them both, well, that’s what you’ve got