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Archive for March, 2021

Spring Equinox 2021

Light
tremulous
frightened
clamoring for its
well earned
equal time –
it begs
to rid us
of this
never ending
winter
plagued
with grief:
a tiny patch
of blue sky
amidst
still ominous clouds.

Time for
us
clamor
daffodils
tulips
crocuses
goldfinches
lady bugs
time
for blooming
singing
buzzing
dancing
hugging
kissing
copulating
as brash
as red squirrels
in the neighbor’s tree.

We’ve made it
through
this long year
of fear
destruction
devastation
grief
trapped
in a long web
of aloneness.

Yes,
even if we
can’t see it,
the sun rises
everyday
this gift
of life
which
we all too often
fail
to recognize
or humble
ourselves
as well we should:
every day
has a melody
if only
we chose to hear:
our hearts
recognize it
and
like
dove’s
wings
we flutter
our feet
clumsily
dancing
toward
a stray
ray of sun
closing
our eyes
drinking in
change
grateful
too timid
to dare ask for more….
You don’t know
the sweetness
of your trove
until you lose it.
Lest we live
and learn
nothing
is ever free,
open
your arms
for this long awaited
embrace.

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Patience

 

Wet, more wet
dark                                                                                                                                                                                                    worse for
the tease of
4 sunny days:
winter is back,
with all its gloom
clouds hiding
a tired sun
exhausted
frail
ineffective
as the silly crocuses
daring to bloom
or daffodils
bent
heavy with rain
and more rain,
crows
loud
cawing
in anger
raging
against
storm clouds
dispersing
chaotic
toward
tree tops
where
they huddle
whispering
summer plans
of sunny days
of feasting
on tender shoots
garden greens
berries
sweet ripened
plums
dark
blood worms
easy picking
on rich volcanic soil.
As the day ends,
the murder
eases atop
our black walnut
tree
briefly preening,
ruffling feathers
slowly quieting
completely
accepting
the continuous rain
like monks
to vespers
patient…..
Still, I plod
dog in tow
once
twice
round
our well worn
walk,
noting changes –
the green
bursting
thru mud
below
water laden
leaves,
small blooms
on rose bushes
timid,
squirrels
so young
they struggle
to tear shells
from peanuts
their tail fur
so fresh
clean
feathers
in the breeze.
There are sweet
scents
new
mesmerizing
to the dog:
I wonder
what tales
they sing
that make
his ears lift
his tail swing
full tilt:
he hears
and approves,
as patient
as the crows,
it is only
me
that despairs:
this
winter has been
too long
too sad
too mad
the world
weighed down
in grief.
I feel it
in my bones
in the very
marrow
and long
to run
wild
through fields
woods
meadows
mountains
with my pack
marauding
singing
wailing
wilding
feasting
birthing
like
the spring
around me.

I was not meant
to be a lone wolf.

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