Welcome

If we do not make room

for the unexpected

set aside a small space

extend a welcome

it will barge in

and take one for itself

probably the best room you have

the one you have filled

with your most delicate treasures

the place you have guarded

and called your very own

it will not be yours anymore

so why not leave the side door open

a soft candle in the window

two comfortable chairs ready

for you to sit and listen

and become good friends

Prudence

The black-capped nuthatch

is decisive in his hunt for food

this seed not that

not that

not that

he does not blindly take in

whatever he comes across

instead he deliberately chooses

a single black bead

clenched in his beak like a third eye

he swallows wisdom

then returns to the search

The sky watches

The sky watches with curiosity

written on its wide clear face

chin stubbled with tree line

eyes spying mine from behind

tufts of wispy clouds

Is that amusement I see

in those waggling bird brows

could it be that as I delight in it

it delights in me?

For what I'm worth

I used to think my worth was in my ability to answer

at least half of the Jeopardy questions correctly,

in my fake blond hair with manufactured curls,

and my ability to break into dance at any given moment.

I believed worth and charm were inextricable,

and that I needed to work hard to maintain both.

Then came the clouds, the pain, the fear,

the inability to curl and dance and answer --

and a new understanding of worth.

It does not lie in my ability to capture attention,

in my humor, my talent, or my perfectly lined lips,

my worth does not lie in any part of my perfection,

(because perfection has a price, it does not give one.)

Not just a pretty piece, but the wounded whole

these grey hairs, this pierced heart,

these bowed legs, this mercurial brain;

My worth is not in me -- it is me.

Approachable Divinity

Amazing how the soft reflection

of colors on the waxed wood floor

from the bright blazing strand

of LED lights encircling the spruce

creates a universe beneath my feet

tiny worlds warmer than their source

I admire the beauty not as a facsimile

but for its own unique wonder

like orange orbs of street lamps cast

across the black waters of the Saugatuck

or the sweet silvery moon above

all the more lovely because it is not sun

and I may gaze on it as long as I like

In the same way I rejoice
to look upon your face

faithfully refracting the light of love

tempering that blinding source of all life

into a flash of approachable divinity

In praise of fog

Weightless drops delight in their ethereal state

dancing they swirl past the porch light

floating free instead of dripping down

a breath scatters the damp flecks of cloud

and passing headlights make a shadowbox

illuminating the yard as the house floats

above ground and under water

oh how the brume on a warm winter night

can turn a somnolent New England town

into a mighty and mysterious Atlantis

explorers need only step out onto the stoop

to watch the watery world drift by

Noel from the New Haven Line

A flurry of glittering white lights

frost the many Main Streets

with candy cane street lamps

and Christmas trees in bars

making the neon beer signs

seem somehow festive

while the tree branches wrapped

in glowing orbs wink cheerfully

at the weary commuters

"you're almost home now"

as twinkling blue waves

adorn rambling fences

and electric icicles dangle

from sternly pitched eves

like so many alpine peaks

creating a holiday tapestry

so alive and bright with joy

that even the jealous moon approves