Cherishing

A weekend with friends,

a union of hearts,

honoring beginnings

and endings

and all that lies between.

                                            JDG

Simply Me

The wannabe butterfly 

fancies flitting among the trees

but doesn’t fancy the dissolving

metamorphosis brings,

so I choose a grounded pleasure 

watching others play

among the swaying branches

and the dancing leaves.

                                                                                                                                                              JDG

 

 

 

An Incomplete Story

In those candid photographs,

I see joy-filled faces –

a much needed balance

to unhappy memories

of floundering frustration

and moments of lost temper.

Photographs and memories

capture parts but never hold the whole.

                                                                     JDG

 

Here

Some come alone, some come

 in groups; some are wary, some are bold;

some linger, some do not,

but all are agreed –

deer, rabbits, raccoons, possums,

turtles, and toads –

that we are the deluded visitors

who think we own what can’t be owned,

an earth that must be shared.

                                                                        JDG

Metaphoric Weather

Though the sky

steadily darkened

and the clouds

slowly spread,

the sudden fierceness

of the downpour

caught us by surprise.

                                              JDG

A Slanted Story

A certain sadness comes as I sit alone

with photographs and papers from the past.

The mind clings to the sadness

and tells a slanted story.

I decide to invite body, mind, and heart,

all three, to sit with sadness, mind’s story, and me.

What we’ll discover, I don’t know but suspect

it has to do with addendums, acceptance, and letting go.

                                                                                                   JDG

Floral Requests

Ragweed, please don’t rag

on me and Goldenrod, could

you please spare the rod?

                                                    JDG

 

 

Thoughts Of An Analog Woman

Digital clocks mark

one minute and then the next,

but fail to show where

that minute stands in relation

to minutes past or

those yet to come.

Has our consciousness

become digital too?

Can we no longer see ourselves

as one part of a much larger whole?

                                                                 JDG

 

 

September Saturday

On this September

Saturday, even the crows

can’t find anything

to complain about until

they hear the soft dove sing.

                                                          JDG