Dry and parched

Opportunity to slow down & wait to see the next great living, start.  A bud, a new shoot, a baby quail, a lizard.  Perhaps, even a sunflower seed (although they are never singular).  This litany is long & wide -- thank goodness.   Let's celebrate anything and everything in the farmers market.  

Trees in bloom & sunlight

and you are treated to calligraphy.  Don't be stymied by the red line.  Think of it as a border in a notebook that can be crossed anytime, by any word.  Reminds me of salad burnet in b/w.  Just learned salad burnet is also called burnet bloodwort.  Well, there's the tie-in with the red line, wouldn't you say? 

A large glass plate

is a wondrous thing.  This isn't that yet memory is a great creator, inventor.  So, we have a big, beautiful plate on which to place...what?  Nothing but the plate itself.  Complete.  Complete as in perfect.  Lovely.  Yes. 

The trees are beginning to look like sails

in the company

of fish scales.

Still,

there is an eye

to all of this.

And something/

someone

made the swirling

happen.  No doubt,

breath

of some

sort.

The bird always appears at this precise moment.

A dream has its own watch.

A spoon, its own rhythm.

A circle is nothing more

nothing less.  Remember this,

the next time you go 

walking

with no agenda

other than your feet

& your heart. 

Remember,

there are birds

at eye level --

wherever

that may be. 

Magical kingdoms

abound.
Close to home.
At home. 
In the home.
Home is love
with a roof
& a refrigerator
with food
& bookshelves
filled.
A well-used
wooden spoon
to stir-up
some magic. 

Waiting

for the gesture
to be finished
waiting for
the eggs
to scramble
waiting for
a poem
to appear
across the page
a furtive
fox
waiting for