haiku
little brown creepers
chatter in the oak branches
of a longer day greater yellow-legs
I hear you as the sun sets
tucking in the slough there is resonance
in some of these sounds - patterns
geese in the valley your winter silence
calls us to quiet ourselves
and open our eyes gentle eddies flow
of small, grey, fluffy bushtits
tiny waves of joy your boughs and branches
form ephemeral perches
to hold the half-moon my little wrentit
calling from the blackberry
of December fruits golden grasses catch
light and shadows of white oaks
while tundra swans call this bright winter sun
warms more than the light touches
to radiate forth oh my little wren
you’ve come to greet me with song
on this winter day playing in puddles
your black feathers spread with joy
crows in winter rain good morning, my friend
I see you watching – waiting
for what is to come this bright being here
is a beacon in the slough
of thoughts – for light – peace first star of this night
you seem to have gotten caught
in this trees branches good morning to night
your stars are fading to light
a veil of sunlight this set of five strings
holds infinite melodies
in their potential with all of these nodes
so completely connected
contemplate circuits my towhee - a wisp
this little spirit in flight
calls me to forest I saw Jupiter
but it slipped between branches
and into the fog a quiet that comes
when all of your buzzing stops
compresses – expands with such precision
you place each little treasure
between these spaces you call little notes
and listen for little notes
connecting through woods sometimes – just stay put
and take in the light – for there’s
fog in the valley a pocket of light
manifested between mist
and opened to blue there you are up there
moving along this tree bark
no gravity here oh! good morning friends
you have brought with you such caws
tell me about it the stitches we sew
that hold these materials
bring texture – beauty the grid of orchards
when moved, holds such surprises
tunnels in tunnels little flash of red
just around the white oak tree
downy woodpecker your white feathers turn
to light purplish blue
as the sun tucks in I glimpsed you in trees
large orange sliver – at the edge
of the horizon at the bottom here
in late light sustaining – faint
you are framed by trees come, come, come my friends
drink and drink and gather at the well
of friendship and warmth I mourn for so much
the loss of now – of future
of beautiful light to identify
is not the same as knowing
to know is to see connecting here – now
iterates and manifests
more circuits of hope when I see robins
I see you – and your beauty
a presence through time it’s that morning cup
of something warm and so fragrant
that gives the day breath across the locus
connected – a chord becomes
a bridge to one’s self I want to knit this
fiber of my small being
into the aether you are just on time
at dusk over green meadow
I hoped you’d be here oh my! puddle friends
so many of you have come
to splash in the sky sometimes - you need to
catch up to the current – flow
to then meander somehow I missed you
but just as I turned to leave
I truly saw you with wide toes you ground
energy connected here
to give way to grass when you find some tracks
what is the story to tell?
imagine - nature I’m thinking of you
as the egrets roam the field
and the sun nestles the clouds just moved in
and the blue sky went away
a winter grey day how many fingers
through human history have
played with bark of trees an infinite sum
can defy your intuition
open to wonder you hover right there
to touch what nourishes you
with grace in your flight you gurgle at me
with your beak wipes on the bough
good morning my friend the breath is sometimes
all we have – focus on in
then out - just breathing oh, little warblers
you have gathered in my yard
with rumps of sunshine white little orchid
welcome to your new window
may you bloom and grow what seems to be same
may just surprise you – and be
a whole new species oh, little banjo
I just tuned you into A
droning moon of strings robins on gravestones
in flocks of redbreasted glee
conversing with life a yellow flicker
integrade – a palette of
an ice age melted in the meeting house
there is glory when I play
eyes-closed - clawhammer this contemplation
has brought you to the grains
of such fine detail when searching for owls
you might find yourself in fields
with a herd of elk lean into that tree
and let it ground you through roots
let your branches sway you ask me to rise
just before the sun rises
with your springtime call there might be a bow
in the neck of this banjo
head under tension someone once told me
if you don’t share what’s hidden
others might not see such giants live here
at the edge of the meadow
cottonwood forest the last winter’s leaf
hangs from your bough, and is moved
to wave at springtime it’s hard not to fret
you might have to just slide down
for a moment first up there at the top
you nestle down in the warmth
of little owlettes the eye of the mind
is but words, concepts, and sound
for some – I see not maybe you endow
consciousness upon this rock
through contemplation you think most your thoughts
are made of what is between
words and sound and color your small dreams are here
under the sheets of your thoughts
waiting to be felt so many wood ducks
up in the tops of the trees
harbingers of spring unable to do
you might, instead, choose to be
here for a moment when you look up high
then, take a break, you might find
an eye-level owl trust your inner thoughts
to form beauty with the ink
of poetic light what is even yours?
everything is from something
a derivative I see five of you
at the edge of the night woods
goodnight my deer friends such a sleepless night
the birds in the windy trees
holding on so tight generative thoughts
integrating randomness
into this being little short eared owl
when will you arrive up north
among the lemmings sometimes the strong winds
thin and clean the crossing twigs
sometimes get topped the thoughts about trees
come in these bountiful waves
and then at times ebb just when you need it
some sort of confirmation
the pelicans came these little bluebirds
have chosen this little home
to spend their springtime countable is not
for every robin I hear
there is one between you turn around this
little sphere with your cycle
celestial dance the conversations
with the weeds in the small cracks
are of struggle – light blossoms do abound
with little pink petals here
dancing in the wind the beauty of time
is that it only exists
for that one moment this little droplet
gathers on your small petal
magnifying you you’ve chosen our home!
to nest and share your little
bluebird fluffs of joy my fairy slipper
you’ve manifested early
may the bees find you little buffleheads
you have graced the water with
your new fluffy raft oh, how you take off
in a sudden jolt of flight
when rafts become skeins the diversity
of greens, of contours, of form
in the garden bed you’ve graced this pink tree
with your attention to her
loving nooks for nests wow, you sure are loud
in the hour before sunnrise
sing goodbye to night who wouldn’t choose
this little nest with blossoms
gracing the threshold I’m so glad you’re back
or were you only silent?
oh! to hear your song your fracture of self
has left an opening here
to sprout ferns – hold nests backyard metronome
you tweeee right on cue – towheeee
joy to my ears – tweeee it is the angle
that you tilt your head – listen
to waves of ocean thank the ones who love
and care for the blooming trees
for they bring blossoms a little prayer
you say for the strawberries
to cover the ground it seems I was here
to make sure the gate is wide
and open for you tonight you all sit
in a puddle of peach dusk
a chorus of frogs my little snow goose
I hear your call all alone
as you fly in search there are so many
leaves in this little garden
a microcosm knowing what to do
can feel so impossible
so, just do your best oh my yellow rump
you are chasing off the birds
“be gone” chickadee! I dug up the thyme
along the sidewalk my friend
for your sweet garden this small whirlwind
of warblers dances in this
garden of delight you can feel the change
– and the steps you need to take
become oh so clear wow! you are a poof!
a verifyable borb!
my little junco you have a hard time
with all of the inputs – sound
It’s ok to spin my little warlber
you’ve reminded me of why
I stop to listen when I walk with you
I sometimes can’t remember
the paths that we took pushing through the fog
might just end in glorious
end-to-end rainbows the maximizing
of the space within your mind
to hold emptiness so, how many minds
have thought the thoughts you think
and then let them go with hand in the soil
cultivate the bounty here
nurture these small roots blessed is this small pond
for the green herons and frogs
lily pad flowers I hear your zee-zee
at the tips of flowering
branches – there you sing you’re guarding this field
past sunset and into dusk
bluebird on night sky incredible mess
you keep leaving in this bath
who gave you peanuts? look at all of you there!
gathering mud for your nests
at the river’s edge the small swaths of land
between the waters and slough
hold us to listen your little pink blooms
call the bees to greet you here
my little hawthorne at light’s border here
I see a forest both here
and then gone – landslide there are these moments
that seem to resonate – here
in sounds of warblers this is such a bath
with your black feathers spread out
shimmering in sun oh, you woke me up
with your song at the tree tops
western tanager some mornings are just
a little memorable
mole in the birdbath I thought I’d awake
to the sound of tanagers
but, it’s you! my wren! I sit and kneel here
just to look at your beauty
my camas lily you scritch your head here
on this small branch by the slough
embody cuteness the smell of camas
as you wade through tides of grass
smell of summer chives you quietly wait
in the shad on the fig tree
for me to say hi when you get into
a rhythm that drives your feet
your heart must join in the disappointment
of what people choose to do
Instead of create tonight I look up
and ponder abstract orbits
in fields of moonlight oh my! look at you!
with your stunning blue feathers
garden to rooftop with but a small breath
you might take in breaths of past
maybe an atom grow there in the rocks
with your little pink petals
bloom in this garden you might just breathe deep
enough that you forget you
and lose yourself here the ripples from flow
seem to morph and rotate some
to create their own little torch lilies
hold these little sweet pockets
for your little beak drop thumb on the strings
to establish your rhythm
and navigate through in this rocking chair
I wonder just how many
have nursed their babies soccer at the park
banjo on the small park bench
a summer moment I saw you – right there
moving from water to reed
my hidden sora it doesn’t matter
where you stand upon this earth
sunlight points at you what splendor there is
in this small springtime garden
blooming peonies you popped out in front
with your mouth full on the road
and crossed with such spunk modular sandpiles
seem to roll within the grids
beauty in the math you lost little crow
I see you are so quiet
I'm sorry my friend the flycatcher might
be flying at your feet as
you look at the sky contemplating light
coming through this small garden
and then to nourish vectors are but these
connections from origin
to your elements right before sunset
you notice the directness
celestial light this new little growth
coming from your small branches
spring manifested shake those little wings
my sweet baby chickadee
signals of new life what is contained here
a concentration of thought
placed into a book aphantasia
you're in the realm of concepts
without any sight this perception here
of how the time passes by
only exists now a sad mystery
I just know that you are gone
you are remembered chicka-dee-dee-dee
you sit in this small fig tree
hopping to spiders I see you scolded
by the black-headed grosbeak
my little barred owl you have packed the trees
with little small fluffs of joy
tree swallow forest the streak across sky
will be in my memory
on the porch with you I am hoping that
both of these clutches make it
through this changing world you are together
on the full kale, and it bows
to your weight and joy the loops that you form
will shape and mold you each round
like water on sand you seem to sneak in
just as the silence settles
nestling in flowers
chatter in the oak branches
of a longer day greater yellow-legs
I hear you as the sun sets
tucking in the slough there is resonance
in some of these sounds - patterns
geese in the valley your winter silence
calls us to quiet ourselves
and open our eyes gentle eddies flow
of small, grey, fluffy bushtits
tiny waves of joy your boughs and branches
form ephemeral perches
to hold the half-moon my little wrentit
calling from the blackberry
of December fruits golden grasses catch
light and shadows of white oaks
while tundra swans call this bright winter sun
warms more than the light touches
to radiate forth oh my little wren
you’ve come to greet me with song
on this winter day playing in puddles
your black feathers spread with joy
crows in winter rain good morning, my friend
I see you watching – waiting
for what is to come this bright being here
is a beacon in the slough
of thoughts – for light – peace first star of this night
you seem to have gotten caught
in this trees branches good morning to night
your stars are fading to light
a veil of sunlight this set of five strings
holds infinite melodies
in their potential with all of these nodes
so completely connected
contemplate circuits my towhee - a wisp
this little spirit in flight
calls me to forest I saw Jupiter
but it slipped between branches
and into the fog a quiet that comes
when all of your buzzing stops
compresses – expands with such precision
you place each little treasure
between these spaces you call little notes
and listen for little notes
connecting through woods sometimes – just stay put
and take in the light – for there’s
fog in the valley a pocket of light
manifested between mist
and opened to blue there you are up there
moving along this tree bark
no gravity here oh! good morning friends
you have brought with you such caws
tell me about it the stitches we sew
that hold these materials
bring texture – beauty the grid of orchards
when moved, holds such surprises
tunnels in tunnels little flash of red
just around the white oak tree
downy woodpecker your white feathers turn
to light purplish blue
as the sun tucks in I glimpsed you in trees
large orange sliver – at the edge
of the horizon at the bottom here
in late light sustaining – faint
you are framed by trees come, come, come my friends
drink and drink and gather at the well
of friendship and warmth I mourn for so much
the loss of now – of future
of beautiful light to identify
is not the same as knowing
to know is to see connecting here – now
iterates and manifests
more circuits of hope when I see robins
I see you – and your beauty
a presence through time it’s that morning cup
of something warm and so fragrant
that gives the day breath across the locus
connected – a chord becomes
a bridge to one’s self I want to knit this
fiber of my small being
into the aether you are just on time
at dusk over green meadow
I hoped you’d be here oh my! puddle friends
so many of you have come
to splash in the sky sometimes - you need to
catch up to the current – flow
to then meander somehow I missed you
but just as I turned to leave
I truly saw you with wide toes you ground
energy connected here
to give way to grass when you find some tracks
what is the story to tell?
imagine - nature I’m thinking of you
as the egrets roam the field
and the sun nestles the clouds just moved in
and the blue sky went away
a winter grey day how many fingers
through human history have
played with bark of trees an infinite sum
can defy your intuition
open to wonder you hover right there
to touch what nourishes you
with grace in your flight you gurgle at me
with your beak wipes on the bough
good morning my friend the breath is sometimes
all we have – focus on in
then out - just breathing oh, little warblers
you have gathered in my yard
with rumps of sunshine white little orchid
welcome to your new window
may you bloom and grow what seems to be same
may just surprise you – and be
a whole new species oh, little banjo
I just tuned you into A
droning moon of strings robins on gravestones
in flocks of redbreasted glee
conversing with life a yellow flicker
integrade – a palette of
an ice age melted in the meeting house
there is glory when I play
eyes-closed - clawhammer this contemplation
has brought you to the grains
of such fine detail when searching for owls
you might find yourself in fields
with a herd of elk lean into that tree
and let it ground you through roots
let your branches sway you ask me to rise
just before the sun rises
with your springtime call there might be a bow
in the neck of this banjo
head under tension someone once told me
if you don’t share what’s hidden
others might not see such giants live here
at the edge of the meadow
cottonwood forest the last winter’s leaf
hangs from your bough, and is moved
to wave at springtime it’s hard not to fret
you might have to just slide down
for a moment first up there at the top
you nestle down in the warmth
of little owlettes the eye of the mind
is but words, concepts, and sound
for some – I see not maybe you endow
consciousness upon this rock
through contemplation you think most your thoughts
are made of what is between
words and sound and color your small dreams are here
under the sheets of your thoughts
waiting to be felt so many wood ducks
up in the tops of the trees
harbingers of spring unable to do
you might, instead, choose to be
here for a moment when you look up high
then, take a break, you might find
an eye-level owl trust your inner thoughts
to form beauty with the ink
of poetic light what is even yours?
everything is from something
a derivative I see five of you
at the edge of the night woods
goodnight my deer friends such a sleepless night
the birds in the windy trees
holding on so tight generative thoughts
integrating randomness
into this being little short eared owl
when will you arrive up north
among the lemmings sometimes the strong winds
thin and clean the crossing twigs
sometimes get topped the thoughts about trees
come in these bountiful waves
and then at times ebb just when you need it
some sort of confirmation
the pelicans came these little bluebirds
have chosen this little home
to spend their springtime countable is not
for every robin I hear
there is one between you turn around this
little sphere with your cycle
celestial dance the conversations
with the weeds in the small cracks
are of struggle – light blossoms do abound
with little pink petals here
dancing in the wind the beauty of time
is that it only exists
for that one moment this little droplet
gathers on your small petal
magnifying you you’ve chosen our home!
to nest and share your little
bluebird fluffs of joy my fairy slipper
you’ve manifested early
may the bees find you little buffleheads
you have graced the water with
your new fluffy raft oh, how you take off
in a sudden jolt of flight
when rafts become skeins the diversity
of greens, of contours, of form
in the garden bed you’ve graced this pink tree
with your attention to her
loving nooks for nests wow, you sure are loud
in the hour before sunnrise
sing goodbye to night who wouldn’t choose
this little nest with blossoms
gracing the threshold I’m so glad you’re back
or were you only silent?
oh! to hear your song your fracture of self
has left an opening here
to sprout ferns – hold nests backyard metronome
you tweeee right on cue – towheeee
joy to my ears – tweeee it is the angle
that you tilt your head – listen
to waves of ocean thank the ones who love
and care for the blooming trees
for they bring blossoms a little prayer
you say for the strawberries
to cover the ground it seems I was here
to make sure the gate is wide
and open for you tonight you all sit
in a puddle of peach dusk
a chorus of frogs my little snow goose
I hear your call all alone
as you fly in search there are so many
leaves in this little garden
a microcosm knowing what to do
can feel so impossible
so, just do your best oh my yellow rump
you are chasing off the birds
“be gone” chickadee! I dug up the thyme
along the sidewalk my friend
for your sweet garden this small whirlwind
of warblers dances in this
garden of delight you can feel the change
– and the steps you need to take
become oh so clear wow! you are a poof!
a verifyable borb!
my little junco you have a hard time
with all of the inputs – sound
It’s ok to spin my little warlber
you’ve reminded me of why
I stop to listen when I walk with you
I sometimes can’t remember
the paths that we took pushing through the fog
might just end in glorious
end-to-end rainbows the maximizing
of the space within your mind
to hold emptiness so, how many minds
have thought the thoughts you think
and then let them go with hand in the soil
cultivate the bounty here
nurture these small roots blessed is this small pond
for the green herons and frogs
lily pad flowers I hear your zee-zee
at the tips of flowering
branches – there you sing you’re guarding this field
past sunset and into dusk
bluebird on night sky incredible mess
you keep leaving in this bath
who gave you peanuts? look at all of you there!
gathering mud for your nests
at the river’s edge the small swaths of land
between the waters and slough
hold us to listen your little pink blooms
call the bees to greet you here
my little hawthorne at light’s border here
I see a forest both here
and then gone – landslide there are these moments
that seem to resonate – here
in sounds of warblers this is such a bath
with your black feathers spread out
shimmering in sun oh, you woke me up
with your song at the tree tops
western tanager some mornings are just
a little memorable
mole in the birdbath I thought I’d awake
to the sound of tanagers
but, it’s you! my wren! I sit and kneel here
just to look at your beauty
my camas lily you scritch your head here
on this small branch by the slough
embody cuteness the smell of camas
as you wade through tides of grass
smell of summer chives you quietly wait
in the shad on the fig tree
for me to say hi when you get into
a rhythm that drives your feet
your heart must join in the disappointment
of what people choose to do
Instead of create tonight I look up
and ponder abstract orbits
in fields of moonlight oh my! look at you!
with your stunning blue feathers
garden to rooftop with but a small breath
you might take in breaths of past
maybe an atom grow there in the rocks
with your little pink petals
bloom in this garden you might just breathe deep
enough that you forget you
and lose yourself here the ripples from flow
seem to morph and rotate some
to create their own little torch lilies
hold these little sweet pockets
for your little beak drop thumb on the strings
to establish your rhythm
and navigate through in this rocking chair
I wonder just how many
have nursed their babies soccer at the park
banjo on the small park bench
a summer moment I saw you – right there
moving from water to reed
my hidden sora it doesn’t matter
where you stand upon this earth
sunlight points at you what splendor there is
in this small springtime garden
blooming peonies you popped out in front
with your mouth full on the road
and crossed with such spunk modular sandpiles
seem to roll within the grids
beauty in the math you lost little crow
I see you are so quiet
I'm sorry my friend the flycatcher might
be flying at your feet as
you look at the sky contemplating light
coming through this small garden
and then to nourish vectors are but these
connections from origin
to your elements right before sunset
you notice the directness
celestial light this new little growth
coming from your small branches
spring manifested shake those little wings
my sweet baby chickadee
signals of new life what is contained here
a concentration of thought
placed into a book aphantasia
you're in the realm of concepts
without any sight this perception here
of how the time passes by
only exists now a sad mystery
I just know that you are gone
you are remembered chicka-dee-dee-dee
you sit in this small fig tree
hopping to spiders I see you scolded
by the black-headed grosbeak
my little barred owl you have packed the trees
with little small fluffs of joy
tree swallow forest the streak across sky
will be in my memory
on the porch with you I am hoping that
both of these clutches make it
through this changing world you are together
on the full kale, and it bows
to your weight and joy the loops that you form
will shape and mold you each round
like water on sand you seem to sneak in
just as the silence settles
nestling in flowers
Words by frequency: little, here, small, tree, there, light, see, thought, through, garden, friend, come, hold, call, seem, then, branches, sound, many, night, look, beauty, time, sometimes, sun, joy, between, winter, moment, take, new, sky, hear, nest, eye, pink, listen, find, white, springtime