Writing poetry
can open the closed windows
of a fearful mind.
JDG
Writing poetry
can open the closed windows
of a fearful mind.
JDG
Ever wonder what the trees
are up to at night?
The day ended with green buds,
opened with bursts of white.
JDG
So many wonders
missed as we thrash around in
worry’s undertow.
JDG
We have an unexpected
gift of time.
Let’s use it creatively.
Let’s not squander it
on unproductive worry
or finger-pointing blame.
JDG
Across the sun-swept hills, a small bird flies
seeking something
beyond as
we do
too.
JDG
Catch myself wondering what’s next.
Shift my focus
to that cherry tree,
limbs outstretched,
offering pink blessings
to the sky, to the wonder
that is now.
JDG
What did the cherry
say to the forsythia?
Answer: “You may be
mellow yellow, but I am
the one who is in the pink.”
JDG
(This is what happens when you have time on your hands)
Even though there’s no wind,
not even a breeze,
I am showered with
small, white petals
as I start on my way.
Perhaps this is a reminder.
Even in these chaotic times,
small blessings are everywhere
if we but look.
JDG
The natural world heaves
a big sigh as we humans
reluctantly stay inside.
JDG
Even in the midst
of devouring red,
of disintegrating black,
of stultifying grey,
we can hear the call of green.
JDG