On this humid, sweltering day
when the air is so thick that
you can barely keep your balance,
when the world seems to waver
before your very eyes, come find
the wild forget-me-nots rising
from the duckweed at the pond.
Drink in their refreshing grace.
Let their cool hues sooth you
and their dance speak of breezes
come to clear the air, to remind you
of the gifts that June has given,
and gives you now, as she departs
on this, her last, long, sultry day.
I think we come with daisies floating
through our newborn dreams,
their gold centers holding sunshine,
their petals radiating light. Just look
at what we draw when you put
a crayon in our four year old hands,
at those spoked circles that we tell
you are sunshine, at the circles
with looped arms reach up
from the ground. Sunshine and
daisies, children know, tell
the story. These are what
I brought with me, these pictures
of warmth and light. These
are why I came.
When the gentle days come along,
the ones where you’re able to let go
of your worries and concerns
and simply be, beneath the blue sky,
feeling the sun and breeze on your skin,
noticing the birdsong, the waltz
of the trees’ leaves, the way the clouds
float weightlessly above you, give in.
Let yourself sink into the contentment,
into the spaciousness ,holding nothing
but the thought that in the end
everything could work out just fine
Here come summer’s butterflies,
like little flowers on the wing,
dipping through the sky,
fluttering through gardens,
luring smiles and the laughter
of children. Maybe they
are what the souls of flowers
become when flowers
pass away, bright angels,
dotting our days
I’m pouring my morning coffee
when a motion catches my eye.
Two fawns scamper from the woods
to stand on the hillside in my yard.
They graze on the grass and nibble leaves,
pausing to raise their heads to look,
to listen. Awareness is their only
protection. That, and their speed.
They can vanish in an instant.
They stay for 3-4 minutes. Then
they are gone, leaving me to think
how lucky I am to see them,
to live in a time when one can still
live surrounded by wildness,
where young deer step from the woods
just a few feet away. Like them,
such a time can vanish in an instant.
That’s the plan, you know.
I sip my coffee and give thanks
for this now, my mind till shimmering
at the wonder of the deer.
Once upon a time, a little pine grew here
holding magic in his boughs and love
in his heart for all who lived in the forest.
He loved the summer sunshine and its
fireflies and starlight. He laughed
with the squirrels and sang with the birds.
Elves loved him and invited him to play.
He was a true friend to all who knew him.
And in his last year, he was chosen
as Grand Master at the Festival of Light.
And although he is gone now, old pines
still tell his story to the young little pines
growing in the nursery by the lake,
and the spirit of Little Pine fills them
with kindness, and love and joy.
On the hillsides lining the freeway
crownvetch and daisies are in full bloom,
a dusty pink blur ar 70 miles an hour.
But when you slow, you see them
for what they are. One year
I picked up an Arizona friend
from the airport. She gazed
open-mouthed at the greenery
and blooms as I drove the twenty miles
home. After a long silence, she finally
managed to gasp, “Who waters it all?”
I laughed, and told her, “God.”
You there, beaming your golden
smile, trumpeting your song
as if the world were your kingdom,
as if you intended to proclaim
joy from shore to shore,
You can be my sunshine
on this cloudy summer day.
I’ll take your song and sing it.
I’ll beam your message of joy.
Let the clouds grow and the rain
fall, and may they sing, too,
until everything is shining
with your golden, perfect song.
Oh Yes! This is it!
This is what we wanted,
what we longed for
all winter long. This
summer day with winds
pushing the tall grass
and giant clouds evoking
memories of childhood,
when we stretched out
on the green fragrance
and found circuses
sailing overhead, when
even the ants were a matter
of utter fascination. Yes!
This is it exactly. The perfect
summer day. Oh, at last.
Oh Yes. Oh Yes. Oh Yes.
Kaboom! It’s summer,
with all its sizzle and glory,
come to pare us down to our essence,
to burn away all that’s unneeded,
all that doesn’t belong. Come
with its vivid splendor and bright hues,
with its dazzling contrasts of light
and shade, of sweat and leisure,
of hard work and hard play,
of steamy heat and pouring rain.
Summer, where dreams are conceived
and brought to fruition. Summer,
pulling us on to become all we can be,
giving us our best chances, singing