paper cranes

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.

*** For Hiroshima Day of Remembrance, a poem written several years ago.

deep magic

I hover between rejoicing and grief
My brothers life is saved.
Cancer defeated with the deep magic
of science and the deep magic of prayer.
He will grow old now, his blood newly
Created and restored.

On my knees,
I rejoice and shout with tears,
Praising the God of creation and healing.

These tears mingle with despair
For our nation, its cancer, metastatically blighting
Families undone.
I am undone from the cries of babies
And grieving mothers clutching their empty arms.

I shout to the God of strangers,
To save those angels we turn away
Inhospitably in our hot deserts,
The infants pulled from their mothers breasts
To crouch on hard hearted floors.

I look for the magic to find the cure,
The deep magic of hope and love.
Save these lives too, I pray.
Restore and re-create the country I once knew
Bring back that deep magic
Of welcome asylum,
That deep magic of sanctuary and home.

yours as always

Sweet peas

dear one
the lane is swept clean of the sweet pears petals
now the small dog and I will rest
the angels will arrive soon
all is well and as it should be
yours
as always

dear one
clouds billow and jostle across the brow of the ridge
the baker had only the sweetest loaves on the counter
tea will be ready soon
all is well and as it should be
yours
as always

dear one
this morning, the cat knock over the cream
lapping it from the sunbeam pooled on the kitchen floor
all is well and as it should be
yours
as always

dear one
the angels came and rested awhile
the sweet peas are in bloom again this year
all is well and as it should be
yours
as always
with love

Words that rhyme with waning – a poem that started as one thing and ended up another

Golden moonlight  Jan 2014

The feigning moon
Hiding behind the hedge
Cocks her head as though to run down the alley
Suddenly
Leaping to the top of the old oak
She winks and smiles

The seining moon
Scoops up fistfuls of stars
Letting the waters flow through her fingertips
And into the ocean sky

The reigning moon
Crowned with comets
And sparkling diadem
Deigns look down from her sapphire throne
To our upturned faces
Where we are held rapt
And moondrunk

words that rhyme with waning part 2

I decided to write a silly poem about the moon
But your name kept coming up in conversation and with it
the way the moon looked that night
And the way the air moved with the trees
As though they had secrets to keep
There is nothing really that rhymes with the waning moon
Nothing that I can think of except that it sometimes rhymes with the snow
And sometimes with the way your blues eyes capture the moment like a polaroid camera
How is it that I have lived all these years and didn’t know
that shaking those pictures didn’t make the image appear any quicker
My impatience to see what I had just seen
To record it somehow so that it will be clearer
that waxing and waning are still metaphors
And my hair is still silver in the soft white light of the April Egg moon

most times

spring ridge 2

I don’t believe in ghosts
though sometimes I wish I did-
to see her face and maybe sit for a while together.

Yes, I would be willing to believe
just to hold her hand again
and laugh through my tears.

Grief leaves stains-
a little like sweet tea
on an old linen cloth-
most times
its hardly noticeable.