we reach, we dance
beneath the sky
beneath the moon
stars and storms
bit and broken
sway and sidestep
hope and hollow
june and january
gold and glitter
arms waving
we dance
in which the garden begins
to resemble the gardener
{and vice versa}
slightly disheveled
always busy
growing (old)
setting seed
rambunctious and tenacious
in equal measure
filled with promise
and hope
possibility and time
overcrowded and
under the weather
(quite literally)
birdsong soaring
on time’s
cheap passing
the same every year
but different
every hour
ants moving mountains
and thunder
looming large
butterflies
and dragons and
wrinkly toad kisses
wasps building nests
on the promise
of tomorrow
always at the ready
to sting you
today
drawn to the scent
of life lived hard
open and blooming
too enamored of the sun
to strive for anything
resembling
perfection
a bird in the hand
(okay, kitchen)
We’ve had plenty of birds come down our chimney over the years, sparrows and starlings, mourning doves and mockingbirds, and once, a squirrel.
Rescuing the squirrel was a challenge, but with the help of my dad and a craftily formed cardboard and plastic tunnel, he eventually made his way outside. For the birds, I’ve developed a system that almost always goes off without a hitch, closing all the doors to all the rooms, (with the cats behind one of them) and opening the front door which is about 15 feet away from the fireplace. Then, I open the fireplace and wait. Almost always, after a few moments, the bird will fly directly out the open door.
When I woke up this morning, all three cats were sitting in front of the fireplace looking in, so I knew something was up. A few minutes later I heard the tell-tale scratching and saw a bird hopping around inside, but I thought it was a sparrow. It wasn’t until he flew out (in the wrong direction) and landed in the kitchen that I saw what kind of bird it was.
It’s not every day that you have a bluebird in your kitchen, and so, since my camera was handy and he seemed okay, I took a moment to snap his picture. I felt a little guilty, but who could resist?
What followed was a comical dance of him flying from window to window, (never quite figuring out which one was open), with me trying to scoot him towards the right one, both of us flapping and squawking, until finally I was able to trap him in a glass hurricane and lift him to the right spot.
And away he went.
He flew over and landed near the nest box and sang for mama bluebird, who eventually showed up. I’m fairly certain that their eggs are already damaged, the nest has definitely been tampered with, so I don’t think we will have babies this year. And this makes me sad.
But, I had a bluebird in my kitchen, and that made me smile.
Ordinary magic of the very best kind.
You gotta love life.
autofocus
one day you find yourself
sitting in the circle
of every choice
you’ve ever made
the edges are a bit fuzzy
and there’s a ten foot tall labyrinth
between you and center
the only way back
is to eat your way through
the blue bowl
of continuous sky
.
.
.
.
A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month.
This post is part of NaPoWriMo. see more here.
the fountain
life keeps raining down around me
even as i close my eyes in a vain attempt to hide
even as i refuse to see anything but beautiful
even as i say goodbye and goodbye and goodbye
and i listen to the music of the weather you
bring to me in a jar the color of sea
i listen to spring creeping in just beneath
winter’s worn grey tattered dress
i listen to the sound of
………….another year dying
………….another heart trying
………….another eye crying
my palms turned upward to catch diamond drops
………….and bits of glitter that will leave with the sun
there is more light than you can see
………….more hope than you can harness
………….more time than you can shelter
and there is less of you
………………..less of me
………………………….less of yesterday
in this puddle building up around my ankles
….this ocean of silence that roars in my ears
….this river that runs straight to the cave of your heart
….this avalanche that keeps raining down
……………………………..raining
………………………down
…………………around
……………………………..me
..
.
.
.
Linking up today with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night
wonderland
It’s beautiful outside just now.
Winter wonderland beautiful.
Snow angel, snowman, sledding, hot cocoa weather.
It will be a day of pretending we live in a snow globe
with books and a fire and a quiet dinner
and no world beyond the edge of the driveway.
Or, perhaps, we won’t be pretending.
There is no place to be but here.
.