Falling

sprinting to your door
the rain soaked newspaper held
just over my head

staccato whispers-
light rain falling
through the trees

Flight

down by the lakeside
a skein of migrating geese
glide in for a rest

hot pavement-
the roar of flight
fills my ears

Pending

a deep mountain pool
overflowing with moonlight
waiting on the rain

predawn silence-
dew collects
on fallen leaves

Waste

stolen innocence-
inured to constant violence
and lost empathy

distant wildfires
a false sunset in
the eastern sky

New England

air laced with woodsmoke
thick with a rich silence as
the rain turns to snow

twilight
listening to
the snow fall

Arid

jagged windblown sand
making a meal of driftwood
in the desert sun

just beyond the dunes
a faint whisper of
false promises

Luna

a ring tailed hawk watching
the curve of the crescent moon
emerge from the mist

the full moon
silhouetted
against the night

Whispers

lying in the grass
in quiet conversation
with the fallen leaves

mottled sunlight
spruce needles
murmur underfoot

Regrowth

budding at long last
relationships long buried
exposed to the light

tawney pine straw
a squirrel caches
his winter stores

Faith

jewel in the lotus
tibetan prayer wheels turned by
cascades of water

a winter dawn
snow skates across
the temple threshold