Early Easter Morning

Bone china cup cradling just-made mocha
++++++greets its saucer
+++++++++with a ritual clink
++++++as Pandora offers
++++++++++Bach’s 1st Cello Suite;

++++++crusty bread lends soul
++++++++while windowed sunlight,
++++++++++one hummingbird
+++++and the dewy buds of ancient rose bushes
+++++++++commune;

+++++++++stillness reigns,
++++++spine-tingling hymn
+++of thanks
+and praise.
 

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For You, for Always

My life changed last night,
altered for always
by what you’re sharing now, in these hours,
with so many like me
who want you laughing
and living your sailor’s dream, the one
we’ve all tasted,
like sweet
contraband,
through
you.
 

What to think and feel
of the news you’re bringing,
and how you’re bringing it,
with such sleight of hand, focus,
and grace,
as you proclaim a celebration
of family, friendship,
and new music.
Yes. We’ll create a way through tonight
and tomorrow,
for you, for all of us,
for someday.
For always.
 
 

Meditation

Morning light is pure, outside
and in, first thoughts clear,
like little bells

or a mellow voice;
remnants of dreams
and deep night concerns

tease, call, or jump
up and down from the edges
of tender, rigorous,

pregnant
silence.
Goodness.
 
 

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Feeling My Way

I’m dreaming, on a staircase
streaking up to the sky. It climbs—
zigzaggy smile on building’s face—
to multi-story height, but I’m

clear that, two-thirds up, its stair steps
stop. The middle breaks apart,
and rails and runged side-caps
just support clean air on which to plant

my feet. Despite this part, I’m up
there, foot, step, foot, right to the spot
where a fall into blue will interrupt
or be the flow that’s next if that’s what

I choose. I step, foot, step, foot, down,
zigzagging toward green ground.