Stone finds its placeAt the river’s bottomBetween the water and sandCurrent surges and swirlsStone moves unexpectedlyTo tumble and turnThen find its place once againAt the river’s bottomBetween the water and sandDoes the stone shape the water around itOr does the sand and water shape the stone?~

Hand opened on the bed,Sunlight on the palmNothing to hold ontoNothing to graspLeigh coming and goingHere and thereSun rises over the roof tops,Pale yellow lightSpills through frosted windowAnother morning~

Snow falls in hushed silenceI watch one snowflake in effortless laborDrift to the soft emerald boughsOf cedars and pinesThe window fogs as I leanToo close to the glassThe cold creates an intricate designThat takes on life of its ownCrystals spreadingCreating breath taking laceTo dress the pane of glassI shrug my coat onAnd enter this snow…

Sun rises over the roof topsPale, yellow light spills throughThe spidery frost on the window.Another morning.Hand opened on the bed,Sunlight in the palmNothing to hold on toNothing to graspLight coming and goingHere and thereCaught in the crystal,Hanging in the corner of the windowShattered light is paintedOn the bare walls.Even colour is elusiveAs the sun climbs…

Hush loveI can hear you comingLike a whisperOn the windAs the water cradlesThe lotus bloom~

Water cascadesLeaping off rock ledgeFalls effortlessly to theStill deep blue pond belowLush green ferns growIn fertile soilAround the water’s edgeDrinking deeply from the sourceSit quietly as the waterWait for the sunTo raise each drop of water upTo sit among the cloudsOnly to tumble once again to earthTo cascadeAn endless streamFlowing into itself~

Ah my darlingI stood at my windowWatching youThe sky shone at the sight of youAnd the clouds blushed deep pinkAt your descending caressCannot help but smile,Though you rest now behind the treesAnd will be gone soon enoughI know I will feel your light kissIn the morningFor now, I can wait for that new dayBut in…

The old patterns play against the wallAnd a deep sigh escapes my lipsThe sound echoes through this empty houseI think of the gardens outside, flowersWilted and gone for another seasonStrangely, I do not mourn their lossOr my ownI know they will return,With the birds, and spring breezesFor now they lay sleeping, waiting,While I sit waiting…

On my wall, hangs a simple frameIt holds no image, no colour, nopainting,No photographNo story unfolds on canvass, between the wooden cornersNo history is hidden beneath the layersInstead, it hangs against the whiteTo embrace nothingWhen I sit before itThe universe leaps out at meI see the endless rolling river,With its winding shores,As the sunlight sparkles…

The wind blows cold and hardAgainst the windowI hear the ice crack, as it bends,It encases the ground and treesBranches thrash against the gale,As I watch from the stillness of my chairStream from the cup of tea beside meCurls up into the air, in a slow spiral,While outside, the snowflakes whirl in the maelstromStark contrastA…

Standing in the meadowThe mist swirls around meWith every step, my trail is barely marked,the grass and wildflower barely move– the past and future obscuredI am only here in this still moment,I hear nothing, no rustle of the field mouse,Or the call of the redwing blackbirdOnly the beating of my own heartAnd every breath that…

Down to the river’s edgeI walk, to sit and watch the water flowing byRestless, I follow the winding bank,Over rough rock and smooth stones,To finally stand barefoot in the sand,Where the water is quieter, and the song of the birds can be heardAnkle deep in the water, I stand, feeling the currentDrawing me in…The water…