A single ray of sun, lights the tether, of an unseen spider web.
As if to show, there’s more to know, in this world of wild wonder.
Polly Possum’s Purse
Polly Possum got a new purse. It was the first she ever had. She takes it with her where ever she goes, even though, she dosen’t know, what to put inside it.
She holds it high for all to see but every day she holds it a little bit lower, because it seems to be a little heavier than it was the day before, and if her eyes do not deceive her, a little bigger too.
Until today, as she was setting off, she found she could no longer lift it.
“Well this will never do.” She thought, then thought how she might fix it. Perhaps perhaps, if she looked inside, maybe she could see a solution.
As she pulled the purse open, she began a counting.
“One, two, three, four, five, and six, no seven, oh eight.”
“Eight shinny pink noses”
“Eight terrific pink tails”
“Eight sets of innocent eyes, blinking back a me.”
It took her breath away, and before she could draw it back, all eight had climbed on out, and clamored up, to her head for hugs and kisses.
Polly Possum still has that purse, and now she knows, what needs to go inside it. Rattles and snacks and something soft, to wipe the tears and noses, of eight perfect, precious, joyful joeys.
The Humming Bird and the Honey Bee
On either side of a sunny spot where a flower garden grows, live a humming bird and a honey bee. You could say they’re neighbors. Not the neighbor right next door but a neighbor two streets up.
The humming bird and the honey bee love their nectar so several times a day, they visit the garden where the flowers grow to see what’s new in bloom.
On this particular day they where startled to find themselves cheek to beak, admiring the very same flower. They just smiled and laughed, and with a warm ado they hummed and buzzed away.
Though they didn’t know each other well, it is always good to see them.
The Empty
The vast only shows her back
The empty always faced away
We can never ever reach her
Her face we’ll never see
Yet she does allow us
All the space we need to be
Ephemra
Locks and latches
and secret doors
Thrill and desire
forgotten in a drawer
Locks and latches
and secret doors
I Will Listen
Oh ancient bones of truth
Creak your wisdom.
I will listen.
.
Wine Tasting
With wine you see you never know
exactly what you’ll get.
It’s good to know no matter what
It will always get you lit.
A Painter’s Prayer
We pause to paint the splendor,
the world, the weather, the wild abandon
Our shortfalling shame
becomes our reverance
oh Light, we have failed you,
We worship with our reaching