
The pavement was grey,
And gravelly and damp…
I almost stepped on You!
The sacred is often hard to see
invisible…
Everywhere…
Even in the damp gravelly pavement of life.

The pavement was grey,
And gravelly and damp…
I almost stepped on You!
The sacred is often hard to see
invisible…
Everywhere…
Even in the damp gravelly pavement of life.

The sun sparkled on the raindrops,
The world was alight with golden light.
.
Thunder rumbled,
And the little white dog stared out the window as the rain fell in the sunshine,
While her sister hid under the sofa.
.
Oh Great Mystery ,
May I be brave enough to see your beauty, always.

No collar,
No leash,
He bounced into the house…
Racing in,
Tail high,
Stopping suddenly in front of me
As if to say,
Well, huh,
I wasn’t expecting to find You here…
Me either….
But here we are!

The sun was bright,
And thru an opening in the canopy of green,
Splashing in the mud from yesterday’s rain,
Was a lesson in Joy!
They teach: no mud, no lotus…
But remember also:
No play, no lotus.
Thus:
Know mud…know play!

Contemplation
In this moment,
brings future moments.
we can only see the into the distance,
when We look closely at the present.

She sat wordlessly in her chair.
Barely noticing that we were there.
Then,
She reached out with a single manicured nail,
Pink paint peeling,
And tentatively touched the poodle’s head.
.
There was a long pause, and then the air was filled with thousands of ringing silver bells,
Her mouth open,
Teeth having vacated their residence long ago.
Peels of laughter fell out.
And joy filled the world.

Ambushed
You leap out in your ancestral armor….
Ancient and well shielded,
You are an evolutionary survivor….
Perhaps the future is yours.
But for now,
We have to live together.

Young and excited
All legs and possibilities,
She leapt into the air…
Wings are not needed for flight –
Enthusiasm is.

When you meet a stranger,
Of a culture not your own,
Proper etiquette dictates you bow
And invite them in.

Poets tell me Hope is a feathered thing,
Like a bird on the wing,
Swifts and swallows swoop in pentameters…
Calling me to action.
But but also to rest.
Let Hope
roost in your hands and your heart.