sowing and reaping

morning cove Jul 2015

Will you let their voices fill your heart
with anger and fear?
Remember,
peace resides there.
Look inward
and find your place in the world.
Where there is not enough,
sow seeds of peace
and leave knowing that the harvest
will be bountiful.

Wind spills across the morning cove
bringing the scent of water and sun
thru the open window.
Declaring a truce with the world,
I reap peace.

paper cranes

Feb morning sky

The path folds into itself,
an origami of leaf mold and gravel.
Its edges drift into stiff hedges of
deep dried grass,
shifting ever so slightly in the spring breeze-
fluttering like paper,
paper cranes,
that fold their wings
and unfurl to fly.

Someone, once, folded a thousand cranes,
a symbol of peace or redemption or grace,
I forget which.
These cranes took flight
and flew with ibis and stork,
heron and egret,
until the fragile paper wings drifted slowly,
silently
into the flame,
consumed.

All that was left
was an origami of ash,
for me to shovel into the garden
and work into the soil
to feed the roots
and nourish our souls,
with peace or redemption
or grace.