Sometimes breakfast
is enough of a trigger
to release the night,
and take pause
in the taste of my food.

Meanwhile, I count how many birds
are calling to me.
This morning, the Red-tailed
Hawk has paused, too.

Her Hawk’s cry was becoming a
morning routine. Plus, we go way back.

She didn’t beckon me to open
my shades this morning. My curiosity did.

My morning routine,
has promised me
the best day.

Do you know how
especially important
a thought is
in the morning?

*I wait, while the computer works. It appears everything pertinent has been found again; now it just needs to be sorted. Meanwhile, other projects await, too. While I find my breath, my peace, my inner faith. Then the camera store, then, chop wood, carry water. 🙂

**After some time I will likely return and edit this post, by *adding* some images to it. But don’t hold your breath. 🙂

***Isn’t it so cool to be able to enjoy another day?!

It never occurred to me
that grace could be
letdown, like hair,
in a few gentle layers,
one year at a time.

Now I look up
and I see myself covered,
no, dusted
in white.

We are never left alone,
and for peacelessness
a gratitude arises
meeting the grace that comes
down from above, but reaching
up when noticing, a moment’s
continuance

I’ve seen a rainbow form
in this meeting.

Heaven knows sunshine and
rain make a good couple.

Summer is filled with Saturn

A welcome guest, whom I invited.
When he sits in the house,
He already has his own chair.

It’s a sensible chair.
It has arms that are sturdy, of course.
He bought it at a yard sale
He told me.

Haggled for $5.

Saturn doesn’t take up a lot of space,
and is mostly pretty silent, but I
can feel him breathing with the floor.

We go up and down, together.

Saturn is my friend, and when he’s good,
I even lend him my flip-flops, and send
him out to the pool with Neptune.

Yes, they do have sun protection.

Sometimes they square off and fight,
but mostly they just
make stuff happen, together.

Neptune is always hard to pin down, making
images with the clouds. He doesn’t know if
he is drawing with his mind, or if that bunny
is really there.

But, Saturn, he draws those same pictures
in the sand with his finger, and then
he smiles.

I’ve tuned you a few times
in the past couple of weeks.

Started getting back the memory
of the day and ‘age’ when we met.

You were newborn and now
you are, well, still dusty.

Even with old
strings you still do ring
for me.

What do i do dear friend
to bring you into a state of glistening?

How can I awaken our rapport
without the callouses
or the finger stretches?

Realistically, and without too much
forced effort, that only
frustrates us both.

I’m sorry that we fought.

During which time I made friends
with the ancient spirits who

started drumming anxiously within me.

First, there is a bottom

“Where is it, toes?”

Reach for it,
Reach for it.

“Beneath you.”
Feel for it, low, low, low.
Go deep.

Going deeper, feeling for
the spaces within the spaces,
“Where is the root of this
space?”

She says she doesn’t know where it
is, but she’s found “Planet 9”
on the
news.

The news that people miss.
When news is
speculative, uncertain, eager
More interest, please,
but it doesn’t get enough ~ not enough hype.

(It’s actually too unusual to be too newsworthy.)

Meanwhile, some telescope gropes in the night
for physical proof of our maths.

“Ok, what are we lifting?”

Our own personal sky.
That cross we bear.

It doesn’t exist anymore, so we are lifting it
off the planet.

Roots anchor so far down beneath her
toes. The roots of the roots of the roots
told her so.

Expansive, grounded, open and free.
is how WE are meant to be.