What seems common
might be most rare
drinking from the
same water well
but giving back
delicacy
unique and free.

The magical
are everywhere
not asking to
be seen always
a smile of pure
faith lighting their
faces with grace.

courage to assume royalty
depth to pursue spiritual fulfillment
richness of the mysterious
nobility of sacrifice
sacred endeavors of the heart

alyssum
epiphilium
eggplant
evening primrose
blueberry and fuschia

a feast for
the eyes
thanks to the
bees, butterflies
hummingbirds
insects
and the gardener

We live always
in the moment.
A delicate
balance between
flowers and bees
keeps the food on
the table; we
share with humming
birds a taste for
flowers and the
nectar of Gods.
It’s best not to
ask for more than
Nasturtium
for Fresh Salad.

Bless this garden
with bees, humming
birds, butterflies,
berries, bounty,
family, friends
flowers flowing
into food for
baskets, breads, life.

“I must be getting old”
said the hen to the rooster.

“No, your not old yet”
said the rooster to the hen.

“But I’m falling apart”
said the hen to the rooster.

“I hadn’t noticed”
said the rooster to the hen;

“You’re still the same hen
been pecking on me

and picking on me too
while I sit here next to you.”

“You’re wing looks decrepit”
said the hen to the rooster.

“I think you’re getting old too.”

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme
Mint and Variegated Basil too.
Even when it Rains and Summer’s
surely gone there’s Plenty to Do.
Cut back the blooms to make
Strong Medicine and Eggs with Herbs
Feeds a Happy Family and
Leaves the Doctor undisturbed.

I keep watching
and waiting
while the weather
sometimes weeps
and sometimes wails
like the children
who come and go
while I’m watching
and waiting
and wondering too
what would happen
if I went
“whoo-hoo.”

When the weather is warm
the work of weeks
won’t matter without water.
What was wonderful would
go to waste without a whisper.

When the tomato vines
look past their prime
and the corn stalks
crackle in the autumn wind

there is more brown
than green in the garden.
But if you pull aside
a turning leaf

peer under a sagging
blossomless branch
you can still find enough
to fill your basket.

Even
the Truth
Changes.

Layer
after
Layer

added
to what
Was and

what Is
creates
a new

Story
to be
re-told.

I came from Siam
on a Ship made just for me.
Fed from a golden dish
and bathed in perfume.

I came from Siam
and I am the Protector
of all that I can see
and all who look after me.

I came from Siam
I greeted Buddha before
his Birth; Where I Live
there is Sure to be Fertility.

When I’m Yellow
I’ll Love You when
You Squeeze Me.

You may Find
Ways to Dilute
My Sour Taste

But never my
True Essence or
Medicine.

I’ll Get into
Your Blood and Bones
and Stay there.

While the trumpet player
soars to the highest note
heard above an entire big band
free as a humming bird
sipping the sweet nectar
of joy and inspiration,
the chords and
measured beats
hold the band and soloist
together in harmonic structure.

Summertime is easy
and the living is good
for butterflies and bees.
For me

loaded trees mean
labors of love. Sugar and spice
make it nice, like sweet
memories.

It is good to be strange
at first sight.

The truth of the spirit
reveals itself

in many different guises
low down and high,

one layer and one sprouting
leaf at a time.

Even with careful attention
to phases of the moon
and fertilizer
you have to beat
the birds to the
best berries.

My favorite book
gets better every time
I read it.

Sometimes when the song
bird sings I just read the
same page for

a really long time
while the sun shines and
ants march on.