Being

Every cloud

every leaf

every ripple

whispers

be still

Cloud Dreams again

Who poured 

these grays

and silver blues

What hand stirred

and tilted

swirled

and

dabbed

leaving behind

this artful

horizon?

Cloud Dreams

If

I could fly

and stretch out

on clouds

that look softer

than any earthly

pillow

perhaps

I would

rest

my mind

quiet

because all around me

is quiet

Or maybe

I'd look up at stars

brighter and closer

and dream

with eyes open

Birdsong before dawn

Before the dawn
even
before spring
you wake me
with your
cacophonous 
conversation
high and low
staccato
then slow
the call that trills up
like a slide whistle
the rounded one note
of the dove
Far west
on the lake
geese are calling
at the seam
of the eastern horizon
the sun awakes

Before Budding

Winter stripped us

revealing

our inner tangles

the neglected heart

and bare roots

Now

all that confusion

can breathe

light gets through

turning dust motes

to gold

We can untangle it

or own it

clothe it in new green

and flowers

Breathe

Perhaps

Spring

and Lady Sun

just 

needed 

to breathe deeply

and hold in

quiet

A pause

in the heated pace

of 

a million leaves

unfolding

still

in the green

hum

of everything

waking

growing

Breathe in

a cold morning's rain

breathe out

afternoon's

brisk 

hide and seek

of clouds

Like Winter Creatures

Why

do we live by the clock,

Lady Sun?

Why

do we live by the calendar?

Would

the waiting be as long

without

our human-designed

timetable?

Would night

and winter

seem so 

dark

and endless?

Or

like winter creatures

would we curl 

tighter

and sleep 

deeper

or ruffle

our winter defenses

against the wind

and be?