She sat hunched over in her chair,
seeing nothing,
in her own world.
Was she still there?
Softly touching her shoulder, I
told her Luna
was here. Out of
blankness, boredom,
she straightened up, smiled, and love streamed
from hands and mouth.
A blind woman,
a tender dog.
Have you ever eaten
a blackberry mindfully?
Or a blueberry or strawberry?
Close your eyes, take one bite
and your taste buds will
explode with delight.
Savor the sweet, sour taste,
roll the berry with your tongue,
feel its texture, its shape.
Grind the seeds with your teeth.
Let it stay in your mouth
as long as you can,
cherishing each sensation.
You are the tree that draws me
Each time I visit this place of retreat.
I see in your broken limbs
The challenges you have faced.
I see the wounds that have healed
So you can grow.
I see twisted branches formed as
You traveled on your crooked journey
To wholeness.
I see your branches spread out wide
As far as they can go,
Open with wisdom and compassion to
Enfold those who lean against your trunk.
I thank you for being my anchor each time.
Trees,
heavy with ice,
bow down to the earth.
People
bombarded with lies,
bow to the liar.
Creeping Kudzu of the mind – fear, worry,
blame – chokes out old
growth, smothers
new, slides
from
mind
to mind,
leaving no
room for the green
of love, acceptance, or wisdom to grow.
JDG
Fiercely protective of
his territory and brood,
a male bluebird pecks on
a downstairs window,
attacking the enemy.
He flies up and
begins anew on
an upstairs window,
seeing the image only
as one who will do him harm.
Even though we understand
the mystery of a reflection,
we are much like this bluebird,
unable to see who
the real enemy is.
As Pogo said, “We have
met the enemy and
he is us.”
I deadhead the daffodils, once beautiful, now fading,
so I can see the purple flowers on the copper ajuga.
I think that sometimes to see beauty,
we have to shed what once was,
what we held on to for so long….
memories, expectations, dreams.
Only then can we see the tender shoots
of new growth, of new beginnings.
Diamonds in the grass,
frosted spider webs in a roadside ditch,
weeping willow branches a tender green.
What else is there on my path,
seldom noticed but there,
waiting to reveal itself?
Often it is the unexpected
that brings us joy.
A wrong turn, a red stoplight,
children laughing,
a single daffodil pushing up.
Embrace them all!
I love this poem written by my friend
When I consider
how quickly the morning frost
fades beneath sun’s warmth.
I pause and send my patches
of frozenness compassion.
JDG
On a grey morning, bright yellow
fields of flowers
caught my eye and
lifted me up,
caused me to pay attention to
spots of beauty —
pink crepe myrtles
feathery grass —
shifted my thoughts and reminded
me to focus
on here and now
not there and then.
untangling the web 