The drizzling raindrops seem to say that all the things we love will not dissolve in sorrow. – That when the master made the watch he wound it tight…and stayed, refreshing each tomorrow.Read more "Rain"
I wonder if that frog thinks the world is just a fevered dream inside his pond… – or does his mirror reflect, in green- translucent shine, the way creation always meant to be?Read more "Frog"
The breeze blew by so gently It seemed the promise of my dreams had come to call. A breath like rain-dropped grass, it said the ground had greened at last and put her apron on.Read more "Wind"
I watched a flower give itself— a thousand tiny strands— that wafted into wind and grew a field of dandelionsRead more "Life"
The earth is really still the same when winter winds subside and sunshine flows while warmly blows the breath of spring again. – The earth is different every time the dead things turn to green and seeds that died now quickly ride their stems to life…againRead more "Spring"
The golden leaves have fallen now— cracked and brown and dying, swirling in the autumn air that slips around me, sighing. All that’s left of a youthful dream, conceived in winter’s wait and born beneath the sun’s warm gaze when all the trees create. So soft—the pink and white unfolding— blossoms on the trees that […]Read more "The Golden Leaves"
Creaking with the cold: groaning, sugar-sprinkled pond. Highway for a squirrel. – Plunks of sky break glass. Tiny ringlets: small, then large. Spirals in a pond. – Water flees away! Restless waves reverberate. The tire swing sways. – Whirling with the wind, ghostly whisks of red and brown mirrored in the glass – – – […]Read more "Seasons: Four Haiku"