In a field not far from here, rags

and riches live.

Next to Queen Anne’s

Lace, Ragweed takes

its natural place. Through this wild

flowering, bees,

birds and other

monarchs weave, while,

not far below, moles and rabbits

build their homes as

 breezes whisper

summer’s sweet songs.

                                                             JDG

I started down a path today

that would take me

to a place I

didn’t want to

go. It’s a well-worn path that does

not wear well, a

path beset with

pain. Yet, by will

and grace, I reversed my course.  And,

as the poet

said, that made all

the difference.

                                                               JDG

Worry came to call this morning.

She arrived at

three and flounced and

pounced, huffed and stewed,

running through her usual list

of what-ifs and

then-whats, yeah-buts

and even-sos.

Still, I was strangely overcome

with gratitude

to be alive

to welcome her.

                                                      JDG

In the space between clouds, lies sky

in various

shades of blue and

gray, and in the

space between us, these same hues lie.

What we choose to

emphasize ( space

or hue ) colors

the view we’ll hold and what we’ll see.

Will it be mood

or openness?

It’s ours to see.

                                                           JDG

There’s a lot of activity

in the air right

now. Butterflies

and wasps and bees

join hummingbirds and dragonflies

while down below,

and moving slow,

box turtles glide

past hopping toads and in the pond

brim and catfish

swim in moving

tribute to Spring.

                                                                                     JDG

On this old tree one tiny branch

glows new green with

small clusters of

rounded, young, blue

berries. Larger branches lie stripped

and bare. Past and

 future, end and

beginning meet

right here, right now and join in this

very moment

to hold it all

in timeless space.

                                                                            JDG

As I pause to let my failing

speak, shame comes first

followed by fear,

then firm resolve.

They silence failing’s faltering

voice, but as I

sit and wait them

out, failing lets

itself come close and shyly speaks.

Together we

begin again

with tenderness.

                                                                     JDG

In the early morning mist three

young deer stir, but

nothing else, not

even a breeze

moves.  All the birds are tucked away

and the sun seems

content to stay

behind the grey.

Later, a few crows emerge, but

hold their call as

we wait for the

unfolding day.

                                                                   JDG

As night slowly fades into

day, an owl sings

solo to the

disappearing

dark as a cacophony of

other voices

rise to greet the

light. Some will sing

to night while others hail the day.

In this never

ending chorus

all voices sing.

                                                               JDG