Author: simon13Page 1 of 10

What is it to be a baby jay…

In this second there’s nothing to do except…

If the moment we stop needing to be happy is when we’re happiest…

Finally after a long day of fussing…

Today I let the world lead me in dance…

I remember when I was seven, the dunes at Bamburgh…

If driftwood were my mentor…

When I climb the hill back home…

What is it to be the cedar…

What shall I do now…?

It’s the same sun…

Two people arguing…

The sky is green with storms. The woodpecker is on the spruce. Everything is perfect.

I’m going to round up the weeds…

I touch the soft bark of cedar…

I’m coming back here…

Then I remembered it’s future to shoulder the sun…

Hooray today for little brown birds…

I feel the warm hug of the wind…

When the sparrow’s voice pierces my heart…

How wonderful to be a low thing…

We go visit nature and marvel at the trees and the birds…

I know the bird outside my window this morning isn’t singing for me…

Osprey, white angel spearing fish…

Sometimes, if I’m very still, if my fingers
stop fidgeting and my mind cools…

I wish to trust, like the wren trusts the sunrise…

I refuse to mourn the death of a daisy…

The tide comes in, the tide goes out..

We planted walnut saplings…

Every summer grasshoppers enter our screened porch and die…

I’m pleased to report the woodchuck is back…

Sometimes when I climb the hill back home…

Grasping for a firm future, ignoring the solid ground of today.

As I wait, the blur of thought fades…

The daisy, wisest of plants…

Only open hands, wide eyes and soft faces let the world in.

You and me…

Flapping my arms. Forgetting my parachute

When there are too many inputs and the wires are running hot…

Yes, you can do it, push through it…

Is this tree, which stands outside
my window, happy?

This morning I woke and saw the sun had placed diamonds on each blade of grass…

The light that reflects so sharply…

I was still enough to hear the sound of the wren…

I will go walking amid the fragrant grasses…

And then we have nature…

Why leave when there’s a city…

Have you ever looked at the flower of a strawberry…

This morning I woke and saw the tree…

That flower, this soil, our bird, your pond…