Apple blossoms

each petal curves
not quite white
edged in pink,
five, spread like fingers

and around each flower
an array of five more
pink buds in waiting

and beneath the buds
the spray of young green
leaves spread to the sun

their gentle trembling
belies the push
and thrust of growth

sap running strong
like the brisk wind
that ruffles these
delicacies

Encounter

hold it in your hands like
the undiscovered thing it is

look at the shape it takes
follow its curves and
shy folds

see how the colors move
within the form

gently, touch its skin
feel the warmth, the silkiness
the subtle scent that rises

listen to it breathe

now tell me
do you think you might
know what this is?

Up on the ridge

spring sweeps low across the grassy hills like
green fire
and a warmer wind moves swiftly over their
curves

the liquid song of two bright
meadowlarks
burbles from the brush like a stream of
water

under the cloud-studded sky a
redtail hawk
hangs motionless watching
me

Kiss the sky

when I see the translucent moon hanging
tenderly against brilliant blue
I want to

when I watch the sunlight move slowly behind
fistfuls, armloads of transparent petals overhead
I want to

when I see the flash of the doves above
turning in a sunlit wheel
I want to

when I feel the chill breeze against my face
whispering into my mouth
I want to

At the piano

my fingers slide in patterns
across the patterns of black and white
tracing memories of your fingers
sliding in patterns of their own

my feet tap and press
in dark rhythms underneath
where I used to sit in shadows
to watch yours

the memory of a moment
when your hands held those
of my daughter next to mine
sliding across the keys

is one I retrace often
in moments like these
when my feet and fingers echo
the patterns of yours

Under the raindrops

under the raindrops
scented violets quiver —
urgency of spring!

Fragmenting

birdsong outside is muted behind
glass and walls and
sirens speeding convoluted paths
closer, closer, cut short nearby —

the sun, that rose demurely this
morning behind layered veils
of blue and grey above the hill,
is an elusive disc

as dull as the flat sky itself
reflected in parked cars
under a dusting of pale pollen;
its dimness puts the world on a slant

a severed portion of spectrum,
unnatural, partial light flickering
in the night falling all day,
transmuting perception into still shots

cut boughs of forsythia now spent
their yellows withered
lavender tulip petals
clinging to the table

Opening

reaching out to you
like the snaking tendril
of early spring peas
turns toward the light

tentative
turning to and from
in spiraling vacillation
feeling my way
as I climb
toward your warmth

leaves opening slowly


***
Update: Lori provided the beautiful photograph that appears above this poem! Thank you, Lori.

Owl feathers

"You learn to speak by speaking, to study by studying, to run by running, to work by working; and just so you learn to love God and man by loving. Begin as a mere apprentice and the very power of love will lead you on to become a master of the art."
— St Francis De Sales

"Love is that condition in the human spirit so profound that it empowers us to develop courage; to trust that courage and build bridges with it; to trust those bridges and cross over them so we can attempt to reach each other."
— Maya Angelou

"It may be that when we no longer know what to do,
we have come to our real work,
and when we no longer know which way to go,
we have begun our real journey."
— Wendell Berry

Folded like two leaves

folded like two leaves
between pages of a book,
each knows the other

Musing

who feeds my roots
like the dark soil
who rains on my leaves
and breathes like the
western wind
in the bud of my ear

whose warmth like
the steady sun
opens me and
draws out my
life



***

So my daughter googled me yesterday and arrived at this blog. She said the poems were too long for her and her friends to read, so they mostly admired the poems' existence and admired how professional the blog looks. I haven't laughed so hard in a while. Happy weekend, all!

Beyond hunger is

it curls like a parasite about your roots
tightening, cutting,
and you gulp air
as if you could get enough —

sit with this thing
observe its darkness
feel the fear it sparks

come to know it
so well as to
come to love it

into letting go
into emptying

and in that space
vacuum
void
hole

alone
stand still
and look over
the precipice into

abyss of infinity

and

be
come
a
part
of
a
w
hole

Yellow and green

on days like these
the rain speaks to my skin
entering its many mouths
rolling across in minute tongues
whispering of daffodil yellow
and the sap's green tide

The bay

the sun stains the sky
a dark pink, scatters
shadows of waves
in winking black crescents
across the broad blue bay

fine black lines of
lacy trees
separate
sea from sky

a small island, its green barely discernible
in fading light, bears white birds,
resting like flowers in the trees

as our boat passes
one rises, opening its petals to
the final red of the sun

in that moment, when
the last hot brilliance slips
behind the curve of the earth,
the light shifts

a gentle clarity
suffuses all —
water, boat, birds —
with certainty