Category: Summer 2024

All day, the air pressed against skin
like steamed towels, heavy and damp.
Not a leaf moved. Even the bees
seemed slow, as if they were rowing
from one drooped blossom to another.
And through it all, one wish prevailed:
Relief. Then, as if the one prayer
had finally reached the required level
of ascent, the sky took on the color
of marmalade and the trees began to dance
in its glow, buoyed by a cool wind filled
with the fragrance of rain. And when
it came, falling from the luminous sky,
all the earth, revived and joyous,
sang.

I weep in joy at the morning’s
sparkling dew and at the warmth
of the sun’s rays feeding my leaves
and my petals with light.

But that is not why I have come.
I came to sing beauty into your world
that you might remember that
life is good, and that you are loved.
This alone Is the reason for my being.
Only for this. Only for you.

Walk into the world trusting,
even when you don’t know how to go.
Each step opens to the next,
and the Yes will guide your way–
tugging your sleeve, posting signs,
singing tunes, ringing bells,
placing stepping stones across the rivers.
Are not the rivers themselves led
to find their way to the sea?

I noticed again this morning
how the forest has turned
from emerald to jade, a sign
of the leaves’ preparation
for the coming grand farewell.
So soon? Ah, yes.
Here and there, I spot
yellow leaves dancing with
the green, a trial red leaf
fallen to the ground,
and vines tinged crimson
climbing up the trees.
But today, as I drove around
a bend, a sea of gold tumbled
down to the edge of the road,
splashing summer all over my face.
I licked the sunshine, warm
as honey, from my lips
and its sweet taste lingered
all the way home as I drove
through a tunnel of jade August trees.

You have to know where she is,
the way the bittersweet vines drape
themselves around her, the way
she blends with the lush green
neighbors and all. Otherwise
you might walk right on by, never
noticing how glossy her leaves,
how sharp and deeply green.
To miss such a mystical being
at the height of her summer peak
would be a loss. Come, my friend,
I’ll show you.

I’d noticed a red-tinged leaf here and there
on the vines over the past couple weeks
and the first flowering of goldenrod
along the roadside. I pretended
they were anomalies and ignored them
as best I could. But today the hints
of summer’s end were undeniable.
The trees are beginning to turn.
I imagine them in their crimsons
and golds beneath an autumn sky
and smile in anticipation of the coming
splendor. Yet summer’s warmth
is wrapping me in its comfort
and green fragrance, and inside me
I hear something cry,
“Don’t go! Don’t go! Don’t go!”

Walk through the world with compassion.
Whether it shows or not, all of us are damaged goods.
Train your gaze to fall more on the good than the injury.
Butterflies still fly with broken wings, still offer
their gifts to the world. So can you. So can I.
Did you know that some butterflies drink tears?
It’s true. Proof that the Yes is made of love.

Think peace. It will change you.
Let it float through your mind
as a soft, gentle breeze.
Think hope. Let it rise up
like the first mists of dawn.
It will lift your heart.
Think kindness. Let it
flow from your eyes,
touching all that you see.
Kindness will change you.
Think forgiveness. Think grace.
Walk through the world
whispering thank you,
whispering Yes.
Watch as it all transforms.

Sweet little babies, I see you there
lining the edge of my garden
with your blossoms no bigger
than my pinkie nail.
I see you, rollicking with laughter
just because there is sun
and the fun of beaming
for yet another day.
And yet you beam, I’ve noticed,
even when there’s rain.
I forgot your name years ago,
when I first tucked you
in the ground. Since then
I’ve seen you weather
frost and drought and snow.
I think it’s your joy that does it.
Would you laugh even more
if I told you that now I fondly
address you as“Teach?”

Clouds were clearing before I got to the lake,
the light returning after a long rain. Mine
was the only car in the parking lot. Not
a soul was in sight. Only this broad lake
mirroring sky and the curves of hills,
and the washed summer air and a sky
brushed with watercolor clouds. I stood
in the damp sand a long while breathing it,
everything else gone. Only this.
Not even me.