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Downside-up ...

the chickadee betters

my best chickadee.

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(QR Code)

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Linger for linger

fingers within fingers

... spill into spill.

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Breaking the prayer
to the trees a whisper
... tomorrow.

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Questions at sunrise
a poplar beginning my day
... of reaching.

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Into parched meadow
crisp, snap and crumble
I'm sorry ... I'm sorry.

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With windy aspens

who've forgotten why

... I run, and we run.

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Little finch
tiny one
... what say you of fences?

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Masterful grosbeak
telling me precisely
... what I must hear.

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More heart, more
to a morning that asks
... little else.

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Things to remember:
voices of trees unafraid
... moments like that.

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Prayers in the rain
... what is spoken
... what is meant.

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Hush now, hush
let only this peel, this melt
... this kiss.

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(Inspired by Claudio at Flickr)

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How easy
the meadow wilds
... no sweaty madnesses.

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She comes play
but never game
... heart far more than blood.

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And so, the nest of night
my seclude, my pool
... my echo.

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Weave of forest
limbs of penitence
step after snapping step.

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To evening fields
devoted hands
... and the sow of harvest.

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(Inspired by KaKTaRuA at Flickr)

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Trees say to me
they say, they say
they say to me ... shh.

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