Just as day begins its slow slide 

into night, rain

comes pouring down.

Grateful to be

inside, my dogs and I curl up,

I with a book,

they upon their 

beds, and so we

stay, content, each in our own way –

they lost in dog

dreams and I in

a world of words.

                                                                       JDG

Removing spent blossoms allows

new life to come

and blossom too.

This small assist

from us is all it takes. Nature

does the rest. She

instructs, does not

coerce; invites,

but lets us choose. We can prolong

life’s bloom if we

help release what

no longer serves.

                                                              JDG

I find it hard to stay grounded

in my higher,

witnessing self

when I’m done in

 at the end of day and the kids

are still going 

strong. It will take

years before I 

learn how to hold my seat, my tongue

but not my breath,

maybe more years

than I have left.

                                                  JDG

A woman sits and watches, eyes

soft, welcoming

even the hawk

who surveys what

lies below with sharply focused

eyes. Although both

look, they look with

different eyes.

Both gazes fall upon the same

scene, but their intent

is  as different

as their eyes.

                                       JDG

A baby jay stopped by today

and pecked upon

my window. Not

content with just

one try, he pecked and pecked again.

I’m not sure he

found what he was

looking for, but

I know he found what many hide 

and seek – a glimpse

of  his real self,

however brief.

                                                           JDG

When they took off across the pond,

I hoped the change

would modify

their views. Perhaps

a new perspective would ease their

strident tone, but

alas, things look

much the same to

them from both sides of the pond. They

returned, just as 

they’d left, squawking

their bleak complaints.

                                                          JDG

Sitting there among the trees, dark

thoughts came, followed

by a question:

“In all this green?”

How often do we bring to mind

the dark even

when we’re sitting,

unaware, in

green? That question, interrupting

the dark, came from

a still place much

in touch with green. 

                                                                      JDG

Moderation is not a word

that comes with crows.

All morning long

 what I have heard

are guttural complaints.  There’s no

live and let live

with these birds once

they take offense.

Maybe they’re auditioning for

talk radio 

where they can  spread

their discontent.

                                             JDG

Those blue bachelors aren’t buttoned up

and certainly

don’t act blue. It

used to be they

lined the road, but now they fill the

median. Old

Queen Anne, decked out

in lace, watches

their shenanigans. They don’t hold

back, but boldly

   mingle with sweet

maiden daisies.

                                                                                  JDG

The breeze barely moves through the trees

as light tiptoes

in. The early

morning birds are

slow to wake and even the squirrels

seem sunk in sleep.

No ripples disturb

the pond, nor thoughts

my mind. I  simply sit and savor

this day’s slow start

as  breath gently

moves through me.

                                                     JDG