Resilience

 

The April freeze was not unexpected.
The ancient apple tree's white cloud
darkened to tan
by morning.

Yet her life blood flowed
and her limbs were strong
and in the alchemy
of her intention
new buds formed
and opened one by one.

The bees
returned.

Every Gardener Knows

Every Gardener Knows
the exultation
of a spring garden in its prime.
Golden ragwort reflects back the sun
Virginia bluebells stand glorious in their blueness
rosy bleeding hearts and fuzzy foamflower
wander through the Christmas ferns and pinxter azalea.

Yet comes the day the garden morphs
as stems tilt and blossoms tire
and with a sigh for beauty spent
she takes the past in hand
clears away faded debris
making room for all
that is to come.

I Didn't Think to Ask for Woodcocks

In honor of the 5 years of spring in this place we've been given.

I Didn't Think to Ask for Woodcocks

or the red fox in the field across the street
or the merlin in the front yard
and the fox sparrows in the back
or the tundra swans
or the bald eagle sailing through the yard
with prey clutched 
in its talons.

I didn't think to ask for toads
and tadpoles
and spotted salamander eggs
in the old backyard pond we inherited
or the raccoons who come 
to wash their food 
at night.

I didn't think to ask for the two columbines
or the ancient peonies
or the softest soil I have ever worked.
Or that I might bring
redemption to this land
and blessing to those 
who loved it
long before.

For all I didn't think to ask...

Thank You.