Sunday, March 21, 2010

Seeds in Reflection

. Inspiration can come at anytime. Upon awakening. Or falling asleep. Driving.
But can I catch it? Reaching for a notepad -- it may stop. The inspiration. Or the sleep. Do I dictate to Marily, or scribble notes on my hand--one eye on the road?
. This morning while greeting people at the temple door, it started. It might look like I was taking notes on latecomers. But . . . Well maybe.

Smiles on time step sprightly
Joy in words and girth
Later meek and lightly
Walks on soft-shoe lace
Then the campers follow
Face shades of red, sweat and tears
Comes the venue to me
Eat, love and pray.


Process lightly.

We write.
the Book .
of Lives.
While living.


Driving west to Waconia, it is a vibrant day. A rare and dirty snowdrift
persists a few more days at most. Though it could snow again any day in
Minnesota. Sun catches a foilage-bare woodlot this early Spring day. Leaf-tan
and autumn tones pad their feet.

Shades of gray
rodent and reptile
and others still unseen
in trees vertically striped
and horizontal by the light
winter leaves a lot of life
yet to show