New Day

It is a new day.
I will not chase love.
I will love the bird that lights on my finger.
I will not question the beauty of its song
Or the color or condition of its feathers.
I will appreciate its gifts as they are.
I will accept love
I will master love
By letting love master me.

Joy

Set down your burdens.
Joy in solitude
Joy in relationship
Joy in all things spiritual
These are the real challenges
And you'd best face them
With your spirit bare assed naked.

For Resting

I love an old farmhouse,
Tattered enough to care for,
Sturdy enough to trust,
Mabye a little off center;
Full of stories of babies born
And meals shared,
And holidays long past,
Maybe a ghost or two;
A mouse for my cat,
Gate listing a little
To the left,
A garden palette,
Room on the porch
For companionship,
Iced tea on a hot day.
Who wouldn't love an old farmhouse?
Who wouldn't love you?

Accepting God's Love

My soul is a handmade basket
I  will examine its roughness with love today,
Wonder at its intricacy, accept the mystery in its construction.
I will put down my frustration and let you love me,
I will feel your quiet insistence between the reeds
Of my artful imperfection.

Repetitive Living

The snow stops falling.
Birds appear from nowhere.
The dog wants out.
I reach for my shoes.
The laces are knotted.
The dog is waiting.
I pull on my jacket.
I open the door.
The dog goes out.
The dog pees.
The dog comes in.
Nothing requires thought.
My life is without thought,
I can live without thought.

Night Vision

I entered the garden,
Late evening,
Through a vine covered arbor,
Expecting to see tomorrow's expectations
Blooming on yesterday's experience
Where they belong.
I knew where I was headed,
I was confident and sure,
Almost insistent.
Rows were straight
Fences were well mended.

I wanted to believe a pumpkin seed
Always bears a pumpkin flower.
I went on innocently believing,
Insisting, until the storm,
Believing I was a pumpkin seed.

The destruction was complete,
Now the trellis glows
Over broken stalks,
The moon flower radiates
Bluish light over withering truth.
New and unexpected fears
Present their scarlet heads for tending,
Yesterday's knowledge is
Of little help.
The richness of my garden
Is breathtaking and
Tangible, the aroma
Of rotting fruit and earth
And uncertain renewal
Goes to my head.

All I have hope of knowing
Is the ground I am standing on.
I find myself mouthing,
Somewhat against my will,
Yes, God, yes that is enough,
I will study the ground.

Lessons About Money

Money plays games.
It will buy you a candy bar
Or a Yacht
For the candy bar, it wants a smile,
For the Yacht
It wants your ever living soul,
And it'll probably get you drunk besides.
Stick with the candy.