The soul of a succulent.

 It's life-force putting out a new shoot, ready for flowering.  Worth watching.  Worth the wait.  

It was the bee who showed me

the withered edge of the fried egg poppy.  Those petals like sheaves of paper.  Delicate yet tensile.  The bee, determined.  
 

Looking at the blurry

with soft eyes.  I dwell on the pink exclamation mark.  I think today needs hope.  I put down the news about the tsunami warning.  Water for good and for bad.  

In the moment

 only this moment.

What is the facial expression of a human

 when she/he achieves this sense of calm, inter-connected peace?  

Freddy on right; Fritz on the left.   

Right now the world is rocky and explosive

 Who would have thought, comfort can come from boiling water in a cast iron skillet. 

Purification, of sorts.  Cathartic.

Calligraphic message

A teapot is a container of wisdom.  

tea leaves

unfurl

cats

sleep

all is well 

well, not quite...

 

Zeroing-in on details

Makes the object a thing of narrative-memory.  Turns an object into an abstraction.  

Side-by-side

 Life and death on the same plant.  Death is as large as the living.  Both exquisite in their particulars.  

Tenacity

 In all forms of nature.  Lots to learn in the spilling of dirt; in the disruption of concrete.  

The day begins its moving inward

into evening.  You can see if happening.  But can you feel it change?  

 

Comfort

 What feeds memory:  running water, flowers and the light which illuminates.