Cricket Space

There is a space
on the other side
of the lake;

a space where
a cricket can
crawl between
the rock and the
moss that is leaning

up against
the tree.

A space just
small enough
to hide
from the wind
and the rain that
drives itself
against

the calm.

I shall find

THAT space.

There I shall
hunker down
and listen
for the sound of
the growing roots

and the seeping
rain

and the
sound
of brittle leaves
blowing over
the rocks.

It is quiet there.
And calm;

did I say calm?

Ciao!

TJM+

Rehearsal for Summer

The first
warm wind blows
in

across the lake,

carrying the
air of summer.

It is early still

too young a day
in Spring
to be this warm.

My skin
feels the
need to smell
the baked earth
and warming chamomile
of Summer

but it is
not there,

it is not here.

Ants are
crawling their way
out of the dirt

looking for food
that has not yet
grown.

This

will be
a rehearsal
for the days
of Summer
that are
yet to come.

we will try
again
as the days
wear on - slowly.

photo by the author

I Know

I know what is
written on the underside
of the rocks.

The rocks that sit
on the bottom of the lakes,
that lay scattered
throughout the creekbeds
on all the earth.

It is stillness.
It is love.

Quietly clinging
to the surface of
the stones
stillness and love
call out to us

asking us to
take them in
make them a home
shelter them.

Can I find the
space in my ladened
heart to hold two
more things -

two things that will
set me free.

I reach into the
pool of life's
waters and I
gaze on the gifts
of the deep.

Today they are
mine.

_____

Peace,

Tom +

image from Sturgis Creekbeds