Stuff accumulates –
that old wrap-around skirt-dress combo
that I could never figure out, the one
that made my grandkids laugh out loud.
What was I thinking?
Mail, magazines, receipts,
those old orange crocs,
out-worn ideas,
old judgements prematurely made,
tax returns dating
back to the beginning of time –
and speaking of time,
the time is now not then
and so I begin,
piece by piece,
deciding what to discard
and what to keep.
JDG
Sweet honeysuckle,
why do you have to be
such a clinging vine?
JDG
The birds grow silent
as lightening and rain take
center stage, but when
the storm passes, their song spills
forth once more. They don’t
let yesterday’s storms rain on
their parade of song today.
JDG
Let’s move slow. Life is green and checkered,
not flawless as
we’d wished… but
so much
more.
JDG
When that blackberry bush,
decked out in bridal white,
utters its May promise,
I forget for a moment that it comes
with such a thorny price.
JDG
The Universe,
I was surprised to learn,
sends texts.
Today, in quiet contemplation,
I asked,
“What can I do
to be more aligned with you?”
Bing came the reply
as my phone lit up –
“Try gratitude.”
JDG
When nothing’s going right
and I’m turning left
heading toward the blues,
if I slow down
and look around
I’ll usually find
a way to write myself
back home again.
JDG
Out for a walk,
I chance to look back
and following,
almost in a line,
are my dog and both cats.
What I want to know
is who sent the memo
that I was not
to walk alone?
JDG
Drawing from what we have
and giving to another
enriches both giver and receiver,
defying all accounting.
JDG
That towering pine,
that bent willow,
that scurrying mouse,
that leaping deer,
that stinging wasp,
that honey-making bee,
that soaring eagle,
that light-shy bat,
that wiggling minnow,
that striking snake,
that climate change denier,
this poem-writer –
yes, all of us –
all of us are matter
and yes, oh yes,
we each matter.
JDG
