Winter's Wind

.
Loss is not my nature,
For I am of an endless bounty
Lives in my heart. Is love.
And urgent for renewal.
The wind that couldn't wait for Spring
Carries light--winter's wind
Is roaring
In stars tonight it sings.
Couldn't even wait till morning.
.
It is the season of my breath,
My song, my brother.
Urgent for renewal.
The tearing wind
And gentle
Breeze of every season's love.
And lover of its bounty.
Winter's wind.
.

half way there

In that place between awake and asleep so much can happen.

. sometime in the middle of chapter pages . or the o of this preposition . a good movie . even more so . if it's not so . i catch myself falling . sleep or keep trying to catch me . pulling back from the curtain . and slipping in again . a tricky tug-o-war between the two worlds . where the balance if held . is a play of itself . new characters . scenes and settings unfolding . paper boxes . conversation most mundane . by others in their continuity . or me of my state . in words i didn't even know i knew . about them . and their secrets . they are the players of an ancient caste . the hands in a shell game . discovered again anew . each time . they drive taxis . and write text . cut flowers and walk the road to watertown . or the water to summerland . could be masters . in conversation . half way to lights out . with me .

But then, which is better? Or, how long can you stay half way between?

White Silo

5th of 5




white silo

shadows blue and sky of light
spruce and naked maples
frame by winter grace
red, the barn
white silo.

poplar tree

Number four.













standing naked
outside the sauna
arms raised in worship
to touch the winter sky
lone poplar tree
sunning

stone bench

The third of the walk at The Arb:




stone bench

sun’s arc
tracked by no one.
maybe later
from the bench
May vistas

tree gift

Another shot at The Arb.

tree gift

stand together
on the ridge
rich with life sweet
and flowing.
what is your gift?

ladies walking

Last weekend we walked the 3 mile loop at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum. This picture of my wife and a friend inspired the following.















ladies walking

what wind this way
in gloves, hat and coated
show me the path of country trade
and paid for
ladies walking in an audience of pines
sunshine on their backs
not lacking conversation
windy way this road
ladies walking

Oarsman

Morning on the river dock
sweet song of river calls
the many names of God
from sky to sky
reflected in each passing hour.

I listen for the oarlock’s twist
each grip and draw
blades lift and drip
rinse trickled tip
and dip again.

Slow eddies drift
reflecting thoughts
now guided by
the oarsman of the boat
just around the bend.

remember mom

This is a tribute to the first poet in my life. If she could only remember.

wet handed
dish towel and cookstove
stolen moment of verse
waiting

To sense more of her character when I was a boy, read Making Noodles. Life is good--in memory, and now. Heart connections make it.

Have you strengthened yours today?