Puppy love

That's the thing,
with puppies --
it's not always easy to know
which end is up,
especially when they're fluffy:
you might reach out to pet
what you thought was a furry head
and get a furry rump instead.
Which doesn't mean we love them
any less or any more;
we just walk them, and scratch them,
toss their balls and feed them,
and rejoice
in their undiscriminating
unconditional
love.


* * *

The fragrance of delight

Remember
when we were young
and small
and the simple pleasure
of a day in the garden,
a shell from the beach,
a run through the sprinkler,
was all that we needed
to bring forth a smile?
Perhaps it is time
to run through the garden,
take a walk on the beach,
listen to the ocean,
delight in the fragrance
of wet grass, or seaweed,
of flowers
or pine trees...
where can we go
that will look, and feel
and smell and sound
like home?


* * *

Color in the Dark and Ordinary

There is always color
in the dark
and in the ordinary,
in the familiar
and mundane,
in the serviceable textures
that surround and keep us safe,
the things we take for granted
and the nuts and bolts of living;
you only need
to take the time to look.
And if you can remember that,
what --
or whom --
will you see differently today?


* * *

Don't go there

There's something about
our woundedness --
the way those old hurts have
of gushing forth
when we take time to look --
that's just so...
unappealing?  earthy?
kind of ... you know,
"too much information,
don't need to see that right now."
And yet, there's so much there
to work with,
so much possibility to explore.
Still --
I just really didn't want to go there...
not today, anyway.


* * *

Shadows on the path

The truth lies here
beneath our feet,
and still we fail to see
until the blues come along
and throw it into relief:
there will be pain
and sorrow,
and crosses we must bear;
shadows will fall
upon the ground
where each of us must walk.
But on a sunny
summer afternoon,
I only saw the colors,
patterns in the paint;
it took a cloudy day
to see the light.
And yet --
rejoice, I hear, rejoice
and again I hear
Rejoice!


* * *

The dark side of benevolence

How benevolent
we long to be!
This wish --
that I could smile upon
the people in my life
and wave some sort of magic wand
to make each wish
come true;
to find them jobs,
or pay their bills --
may not be solely motivated
by compassion,
or generosity,
but may have a darker side;
a longing to rise above,
beyond,
to be perceived as kind,
or fair
or maybe
even
as God?


* * *

Truth is not a wound

I'd always suspected
that under that impenetrable surface
I might find vulnerability,
or even complexity.
And you, you just assume
I crept down in the night
with my tin-cutters
to break through to your brokenness and shame,
but no: it was only words that cut away the mask:
exposing, not a wound,
but simply -- truth.


* * *