Now Comes the Rain

Three days ago, the air was warm.
Yesterday, I woke to snow. This morning
the world was drenched in fog and a rain
gently fell. Suspended from the spruce
were a thousand tiny globes of light,
that made me feel as if I’d awakened
in some mystical world where joy rose
in a whispering mist and birds flew
like secrets, their wings pearled,
their muffled calls signaling a message
that only hearts could know.

Valentine

There’s my Valentine,
dancing at the lake’s edge,
her joy flags singing in the wind.
What a heart! Brave and true,
beaming her happiness regardless
of weather or season, welcoming
day and night alike, keeping
her flame from autumn ‘til spring,
then beaming green until
the next fall. She sings her song
to fishes and sky, to every critter
who wanders by, to tiny ants
and nesting birds, to neighboring
trees and flowers and grasses.
And now she’s singing just for you:
I love you, I love you, I love you.

Dancing Lakeside

The motion of the water mesmerizes me,
the way the ripples roll from green to blue
then back again, the soft incessant slap of it
against the shore. Small bees come to play
in pink blossoms and on the opposite shore
geese stand on the sand, grooming themselves,
murmuring goose-stories to each other.
I sway to the music of it all, so glad,
so glad just to be here.

Morning at the Lake

Lake at Brady's Run

Beneath a sky veiled with pearly clouds
the lake is still, as if I’ve found it
in morning prayer or meditation.
Here on the hillside above it
I find a place to sit and to breathe
its calm, allowing the peace of it
to seep into my being. It feels
deep and immense, and for all
its tranquility, incredibly dynamic
with burgeoning life, within
and all around it, full, and dancing
to the grand symphony of Yes.
When I am filled with it, I go
into my day, quieted and rich,
and the lake goes with me.

To My Mother on Her Birthday

May Apple

Every time I wrote the date today
I thought of you and felt a smile spread
across my face, tasting like honey.
Just think, it was nearly a century ago,
probably on a day as lovely as this one,
that you were born, gracing the world
with a loveliness all your own.  I miss you.
But oh, how I carry you in my heart!
How I feel your arms surrounding me!
How I know, more deeply with every
passing day, how magnificent you were!
How indebted and grateful I am for all the gifts
you so generously gave to me, and to all
whose lives your courage and gentleness
touched!  Happy Birthday, Marion May.
I love you.

To My Mom on Mother’s Day

White Lilac

It’s Mother’s Day here, Mom,
and white lilacs are blooming,
their scent seeming to carry
the very essence of you.
I breathe it in, and I’m filled
with all that you are to me—
tenderness, beauty, grace,
delight, purity, depth, and,
above all, a love that lives
beyond space and time.
And breathing you in,
I feel your arms around me
and see your eyes smiling
with such understanding
that I know your heart
can hear all that my heart
could ever hope to say.