Sing the Earth Delight

Every thing is in bloom and green and growing like weeds, especially the weeds, and the birds. I have been noticing the birds. One night sleeping with the window open, the birds were so rowdy at dawn that they woke me up. This poem, I wrote sitting on the porch of our off-the-grid cottage where I watched a scarlet tanager and saw the elusive indigo bunting. Don’t be too impressed at knowing their names. I had to look them up in the bird book. Enjoy the poem and enjoy your birds.
bird nest (1).jpg

Sing the Earth Delight

make the trees sing
They light up branches
in colors of candy
Scarlet tanager, indigo bunting, goldfinch, oriole.
Birds sweetly go about the business
of making more birds
so the trees will always sing
and our hearts will chirp with delight.
I too must sing a tremolo
Repeating happy messages
Sending alive vibrations
for birdsong,
and my song
make the earth sing.

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Be or Bee

I am still working on not being so tasky and scaling back my expectations of what I can get done while working fulltime and running a business. You may share this struggle. This poem helped me see that I need to choose my tasks wisely. Somethings are just busyness and somethings make things bloom. Enjoy the poem.

Be or Bee

Be or Bee
one is busy
one is not
both have a purpose
although one is more clear
one dies for the good of all
one lives for the good of all
both can make everything around them

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As I find myself going back to a traditional full-time job, time becomes shorter. In thinking about time, two different poems came out of me. I want to choose the first perspective, to shift myself into that perspective when the second perspective undoubtedly creeps in. Ponder the poems my working dears.


I like to be in time
to feel it pass
not in ticks
but softly
floating by like
an iridescent bubble.
I like to soak in time
warm and comforting
without task or duty
getting out from
between the gears
laying back
seeing only clouds
letting the current
take me.
I like to be in time
to ponder
to be
to be
to be
to be
to just be.


Time in Ticks

We measure time
in wrinkles and gray hairs
in tasks and to-dos.
we punch the clock
every day
every day
waiting for retirement
when time opens up,
opens up to possibilities
we no longer have the energy to do.
So we sit in it
and watch it go by in clumps
like paper off a roll
conscious how quickly
the roll approaches its end.
We’re seized
afraid of time,
time wasted
and time stolen.
And at the end
come the regrets
the wishes
the realization
that it was love not
task that mattered.

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Farmers’ Sweet Spot

Living in rural Wisconsin, there is a farm field at every turn. Living close to the land, observing farmers work with nature makes me more aware of weather and cycles and seasons. Being in sync with nature feels good. Enjoy the poem.
Farmers’ Sweet Spot

Farmers racing against the rain
Wet fields do not plow
Soil turns to brick when worked too wet
A sunny weekend
The tractor brigade is out
Happy and optimistic
Seeds tucked neatly into rows
Let the rain come now
to sprout the crops
to green the grass
to feed the cattle
to feed us
But not too much rain
The seeds would rot
Nature’s sweet spot
is farmers’ need.

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I am working full-time for the summer to refill my coffers so that I can have time in the fall again to work on my poetry and business of poetry.  There is no way to avoid needing money. A little Zen is always a good idea when shifting into a different lifestyle. Enjoy the poem and the sleepy bunny photo.


Yin balanced with yang
Stand on one foot
Imagine a peaceful place
Ocean or forest
Toes in the surf
A warm cabin
Rocking chair
Singing to yourself

Pick up your worries
Strewn around like laundry
Ask those worries
If they are real
If they will pass
If they will never come to be

Toss those worries
into the wind
Replace them with
with luck.

Say aloud
“I am lucky to be here
in this moment.”
“I am lucky to be me;
the only me.”
“I have control of me.”
“I have control of my thoughts.”
“I am free.”
“I am lucky.”

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First video Poem – Garden Gate

It is about time in this video world that I put some of my poems into YouTube. Listen to my voice, see my photographs, and of course read along with the poem. I am taking requests for the next video poems if you have a favorite of my poems to suggest. Thank you for watching.

Here’s the link: photos 5266

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Garden Gate

One of my favorite poems I have written (and I have written more than a thousand). For some reason, it never got posted to my blog. Even if you’re not a gardener, you’ll like this one because it is about you, not the garden. Enjoy the poem!

Garden Gate

A garden gate is not meant to keep out
but to invite in.
Come in!
Come in to dwell
to stroll among the growing green,
to bloom with the daisies
and nourish your soul with playful peas,
rugged kale and
lanky beans that climb the fence to get the best view.

Come in through the garden gate
to a place of quiet.
Hear only the giggle of baby carrots
and the groan of lazy squash
and the steady hum of honey bees courting the lavender.
Listen to the quiet
and you will hear your dreams
in the sway of the maple branches
as the dappled sunshine trips down through the waving leaves
and brushes across your eye lids.

Follow the honeysuckle vines
in through the garden gate.
Everyday is a new garden.
As the tulips wane,
the irises awaken.
The radish turns to wood
as the zucchini knits a blanket of vines in wait for her babes.
Hyacinth gives way to Hostas
spreading their wide leaves across the bed for a picnic.

And, every day you bring a different self to the garden
growing and changing through the seasons.
What does this day hold for you?
What knowledge and love will sprout?
and what old worries and grudges will wither?
Which of your dreams will you tend?
what delicacies will you harvest?
and what weeds will you pull?
Who will you be when you walk through that garden gate?

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