Sunday, July 30, 2006

skinny dip

sneak by the red barn
strewn blue jeans, shoes and shorts
irrigation pond

(Previously posted in Summer Haiku.)

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Before the Storm

This morning I exercised on the deck. Afterward I relaxed for a minute on my back. Looking skyward I pondered the large round cloud approaching. What would this day bring?
Steady and without hesitation
it advanced in full armor
dark and bold.
Disguised as a rain cloud
it rolled in on my morning
still dawning too slow
and not slow enough.
From north by northwest it came.

Could have been a rain cloud.
But I know and I've been told,
It is coming.

The storm hides the fears
of the masses
some will never see
or admit.
Even when the ships
have dropped their anchors,
their bombs of hard facts
and leaflets of deceit,
warning of a new wave
maybe coming.
Could take many
on the battlefield
of recognition.

Or is it just a rain cloud
before the storm?

At least I don't live in Lebanon.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Feet in the River

This is a different river--yet as sweet.
Feet in the River

Arrive at the River that runs from the Mountain
and feel the Current on my feet.
Come every season without questions
of the height of the peak
or complaints of summer's drought.
Step in without pomp or possession
only what was in the First Boat
on the Voyage of Truth.

And yet the labor has taken its toll.
The baskets are gathered
though the hold is deplete.
But there is a new understanding of Love
and River refreshes my feet.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

Musselshell River

We vacationed in Montana last week: quiet, the stars, sunrise through the pines, Big Sky, and the River. Hwy 12 parallels the Musselshell for quite a distance -- Martinsdale, Twodot, Harlotown, Ryegate, Lavina, Roundup and east -- our route back to Minnesota. Chief Joseph (Nez Perce) crossed the Musselshell near Ryegate in his flight to Canada. We no longer live in Montana either, but still own our 20 acres in the Bull Mountains.

Why do some think their way is the only way? The river runs in peace, the hawk soars and rests vigilant, and Soul's quest is always freedom.


Musselshell River

Russian olive rimmed river and sage blue-gray
Pine-ridged cut banks through rolling hills
Cottonwood green and dead snags
White with morning sun
A red hawk hunts on the Musselshell.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

On Vacation

Travelin' to Montana & Oregon
by Toyota Prius
at 50 mpg

back soon

be happy!