April Morning

Early morning

I hear the chirping

from the branches

I hear you

Yes I hear you

I think about you

I write about you

Little Bird

in the branches

waking the day

greeting your kin

I needed your reminder

Dead Hand

Why do you wait for the days to pass

Why not seek out what you long for

These days are too brief

This time all too fleeting

Do not live only in memory

You can only learn so much

from the dead hand of the past

Let the present be your 

perpetual teacher

morning

late winter

spring comes near

open 

After the Storm

After the storm

White 

Stillness

Snow falling 

from a branch

The pond 

frozen over

Before the Dawn

Dawn is barely waking up

I've been awake just long enough

Stillness of morning filling me

A day of rest ahead of me

I allow gratitude to fill 

the spaces in my heart

It spreads and spurns me on

Near the Beginning

Sitting here year after year

Morning after morning

Night after night

Being born again

Light emerges slowly

It always emerges

It always finds you