The Pine

Silent green giant

In all your still wisdom,

Touching the waking sky

So close to both earth and heaven —

Home to all:

The lovers

The givers 

the takers

And the watchers —

But my heart, too.

The Sword

The path of peace does not come without conflict;

We must face our fears

As well as other people

To reach them, as well as ourselves

Armed with the most brilliant weapon — 

Our hearts reflected

With it, we must cut through the fog

And let light shine through

We must bear the sword responsibly —

For it can both build and ruin,

And acknowledge that sometimes, 

We must destroy before we can create

The dilemma of using our words wisely;

The choice is yours to make

Under The Umbrella

A star in a sky of teal

Two dreamers in its shadow 

The palms dance under the passionate sun

While still mountains keep a watchful eye 

As the breeze’s song drowns out the cacophony

And lulls me to sleep

My dreams rest on her shoulder

As the pool and its crowds disappear

For my love is deeper than the bluest ocean

The Seamstress

O wise weaver,

In the dawn’s waking glow,

High upon your bed of silk

Still you are,

In your apathetic benevolence,

For you just are —

Giving and taking simultaneously,

For destruction and creation are of the same mother

The Party

Under the awning of the leaves,

The hairs on my leg mingle with the grass below —

As the sun dances on my face to the beat of my heart,

A smile seeps its way up my spine;

Yes, I say 

As the worms sing

In the dance,

The bugs see me with impartial eyes,

As the world that I am 

In synch, the both of us

For we are lost in the melody 

The Lights Before Dawn

Flying through a field of stars,

I hear the roaring of rubber

I see distant travelers

off to see the world

But maybe they aren't so distant

After all, we're all on the same ride

Trees

Like the trees – as the seasons change and time goes on, 

We are shedding old parts of ourselves, both physical ones and old thought-forms, habits, and ideas

But in their place, new ones form too

But there are parts of ourselves, habits, and deeply rooted ideas that are constant, and hardly change; our general shape – akin to fixed branches on a tree trunk

But even these, too, can change - in a way

Although a fixed branch won’t move up or down a trunk, it will adapt to its environment by changing its orientation and structure. 

And naturally, a tree will also gently shed lower branches that are no longer productive – parts that no longer serve them

And something new and beautiful grows in its place 

That's not to say the old isn’t equally beautiful, because without it, the tree wouldn’t be what it is

And as the old branch that no longer serves the tree falls, that lost energy used to sustain it is returned to the soil below to cultivate new growth in the tree and its surroundings

But sometimes it won’t happen so gracefully, and a tree, due to forces outside of its control, will lose parts of itself it can’t sustain anymore; a traumatic event of sorts

We too, are like the trees

And we too, like the trees, must live intuitively, and let go of things that no longer serve us

Grass

In the early morning breeze,

The grass twinkles and hums

Conversing and communing,

Mingling with everyone;

The insects,

Worms, 

The wind,

And the sun

Alive and radiant,

Shining—

Giving without asking for anything in return,

Accepting with no expectation, 

And a beauty for the eyes to behold