With the petals of summer my companion

I put flowers on the table--

pink and lilac, fuchsia, orange

with the wine-colored mats

and the lemon sugar cookie candle.

With the petals of summer my companion

and the scent of sugar in the air

early in the morning nestling warm, creamy coffee,

surely the anxiousness cannot creep in.

Surely the anxiousness cannot creep in...

Old Light of Morning

In the old light of morning
which to me seems new
but has been on its way for years,
all the field spiders become
sculptors of dew and light
whose creations outshine the wildflowers
to entrance passing butterflies.
For a fleeting time
lit by old light
through new eyes
that which had been reviled
is revealed
beautiful.

My heart's a little clockwork mouse.

 My heart's a little clockwork mouse.
I wind and chase it round the house.

The clever little thing can climb

and hide itself to pass the time. 

Sometimes I'm at a loss for words

to find it envying the birds.

Then through the dark and down the stair

it often leads me to despair.

It knows there's no one I will call.

It paces up and down the hall

and just to feed my anxious doubt

it lets its gearworks flutter out.

I wind, and wind, and wind again

and ask my heart where it has been--

but it runs off into the house,

my frantic little clockwork mouse.

love held back

i throw my love like a net

or pin it like a talisman.

i want to grow it around you

like a hedge or build it

like a wall. but what does love

like that do? smother flames

and stifle any spark of genius?

hold back storms, maybe,

but stop the winds of progress.

love like that is cryogenic--

it may halt decay but

freezes all movement.

so, i hold my love

in my throat, choking

on the powerlessness of it.

i swallow my love

because of how i love you.

No Use for Poets

This world has no use for me--
it prizes poets not at all
unless they voice the maddening crowd
and sing some clarion call.

This world abhors a quiet voice

of fields and trees, of darting birds--

a pen that whispers on the page

with gentle, hopeful, heartsore words.

Spend no worry

Spend no worry on your chores.
Time is short, but it is yours.

Fill it in the best of ways.
Read some books and go to plays,

Laugh with children, skate in halls,
Never skip your family’s calls.

Bake with grannies if they bake.
Save room for a piece of cake.

Chess with grandpas if they play.
Debate and chat, listen, pray.

Worship where the Spirit leads.
Marvel at the life in seeds.

Weep when life leads you to weep.
Let them see you feel things deep.

On mundane things, waste no thought.
Time is short. It’s all you’ve got.

havoc

 the world is a riot of terrible things
every bird is a monster that sings
someone is dying every minute
because the world has people in it
what dream is joy, what use is hope
a pendulum only needs enough rope
toppling, toppling everything
as the ball of havoc swings and swings