Author: Kindwell

Poem of the Week, November 15, 2024

The poem text is below.

The poem this week is a hai-net—that hybrid of haiku and sonnet—written well within the ten days of sitting shiva for an election that means the death to some degree of much that I have loved since I was a boy: nation and nature, kindness and peace, love and compassion for all. Still, life is beautiful and sweet, and when hope fails, love perseveres, and will not give up, I promise!

take a last look now
hard frost comes to this garden
so much goodness gone

dahlia tubers dug
sunflowers left out for birds
let kale stand and hope

hottest year ever
again and again fire ice
where does tao lead now

bless young activists
the old say bless warrior joy
our fall brings their spring

the tao wants freedom
health peace rule of spirit love
it outlives killers

we feed winter birds
we put dahlias out each spring
love and hope no end

light the cookstove fire
smell sweet garden harvest scents
rise from love’s oven

11/13/24

Poem of the Week, November 8, 2024

You can read the poem below.

Poem of the Week, November 8, 2024
First draft, first take, first day of grief

their diagnosis
terminal I can’t bear to
tell these chickadees

I walk the road north
saying sorry I’m sorry
to squirrels and deer

earth gives a sweet kiss
of dawn on our death’s forehead
goodnight poor humans

don’t tell old hermit
don’t disturb her prayers and work
stacking winter wood

ravens overhead
cluck like anxious grandmothers
who watch trouble come

han shan carves sorry
on each cold mountain path rock
only rocks will read

compassion kindness
our task always to choose tao
follow that way home

11/6/24

Poem and Gratitude for Election Volunteers

The text of the poem is below.

I am so deeply grateful for the many, many people I know who are sacrificing their time and energy to canvass and phonebank and be poll watchers and volunteer in so many ways for the sake of democracy, equality and the saving of the nation and life on earth.

I have given more of my all to this election than all the prior elections combined, but now in the final days my job is to serve as pastor to my community, so I am intentionally seeking the deepest spiritual place I can attain, meditating several times a day, and spending as much time in nature as I can tear away from my pastoral work.

Today what came to me was enormous gratitude for all you who are working so hard for this cause, and the strange thing was that I felt the gratitude was greater than just mine. I felt I had connected in me with the spirit that is in all the living things around me here, and I wanted to say thank you on behalf of all those creatures that have no vote, thank you to all my friends in swing states and working at home to make the world safe for all species.

So this poem and short nature video are for you. We are all with you. The force of nature, the will of the earth is with you. Please feel its power and joy in everything you do, and keep pushing until the polls close!

Chief Oren Lyons asked the United Nations
where was the four footed, where the eagle,
why do they not have their own delegations?
Excluding them cannot be right or legal
by nature’s law—the law that judges all
on how they treat all creatures and the earth.
Fifty years ago now he gave that call
and every day his words gain greater worth.
A bobcat crossed my field the other day
as I prepared my ballot for the mail.
Her grace and beauty took my breath away,
her powerful muscles, that mysterious tail.
It was my legal signature I wrote,
but hers the higher law, and hers my vote.

11/2/24

Poem of the Week, November 1, 2024

You can read the text below.

Friends, we are almost there—we are almost home, and that’s what today’s Poem of the Week is about (see below)! It’s really natural and even rational to get caught up in all the drama that is swirling around this election and to be feeling discouraged, disheartened or paralyzed by fear because of the fierceness of it and because of the stakes. (Read today’s 11/1/24 excellent free substack letters of Robert Reich and Heather Cox Richardson.)

We can’t let ourselves get paralyzed because we are almost home, and the saying is that a poll that is within the margin of error (as they all are) is within the margin of effort.

That’s what we need—we need to be giving all we have now for the next few days to get out the vote, everything we’ve got, and adding our voices to the growing joyful crowd endorsing Harris/Walz and Democrats.

In order to do that, we have to stay in the light, we have to keep positive and up, and there’s good reason to, so whatever works for you, wherever you find the light, please fill your vision with it now, and let’s take this baby home!

Here’s the poem, a stealth sonnet:






Coming home over Alger Brook
we saw, just as we crested
down from Blue Moon hill,
this brilliant yellow poplar,
like a flaw that flashes
from a gem—that radiant
thrill to see this candle flame
where all was bare, and know
our home was waiting
in its light, and now
when earth is shadowed
with despair it gives
the feeling life may yet
get right, or that at least
tonight we may find
peace, the comfort
of an evening by the fire, the quiet
darkness, letting stress
release, brief sweet fulfillment
of earth’s deep desire, reminding us
of all that we defend, the light
at this long homeward journey’s end.





10/28/24

				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week October 25, 2024
			


	
	
	

			

Here is the Poem of the Week for October 25, 2024, a classic Elizabethan sonnet for a week when we need a long historical perspective. 





The next ten days will be the most decisive in recorded human history, many believe, more than any battle or single invention, as democracy and the climate hang in the balance–and the amazing thing is, we get to have a part in it! This should energize us and give us joy even as we face fierce opposition and have to spend everything we have, because we can be the heroes of this time in the same line as all the heroes of the past we revere. 





And everything–everything–depends on our staying positive and strong and in the light, and using our voice in every way we can. 





So here is a poem for this week, first the video and then the text:



















They want to make us crazy—fear and hate.
They win if we forget our loving care.
They lose each time we quiet, meditate
or turn to nature to dispel despair.
They win when we feel hopeless, paralyzed,
as if our love’s cause is already lost.
They lose when we keep eyes on all we prized,
and keep on fighting at whatever cost.
And when they lose, the earth and Spirit win—
as smog of lies lifts, inner eyes can see
true oneness where all sacred ways begin.
Sanity. Joy. Win these and we break free.
So when they throw their crazy bait, don’t bite.
Reject the shadow side and choose the light.





10/21/24
Thank you!









































				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week October 18, 2024
			


	
	
	

			

Here is Poem of the Week, a hai-net–seven loosely connected syllabically correct haiku type poems that work something like a sonnet. It’s partly about the sources we choose to turn to for our perspectives, and how they shape what we value, love and promote–and therefore how they shape our voice. Please use your voice loud and clear in every way you can in these crucial days you have left to shape our future!














Here’s the poem’s text (and you can see more at https://thomascarykind… )





coyotes live here
where ghosts of long lost hill farms
walk their mossed stone walls





four owls screech and hoot
coyote howls and crickets
one bowl many realms





human ugliness
jets roar diesels growl and whine
erosion tree scars





thoreau muir berry
old chinese poets chose deep
nature spirit realm





barred owls call mid-day
connect across the bowl once
war jets thunder hours





two feet crunch acorns
and dry leaves on foot-worn paths
stream clearer each step





value and protect
wild and quiet lives for love
and you have my vote





10/14/24






				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poem below.





This Poem of the Week is under the influence of both great beauty and two great threats–the threat of winter coming and catching me unprepared, and the threat of the results of the election plunging our nation into a terrible winter. We each have our own preparations of the homestead or apartment or heart for nature’s winter, and we each have our own way of working on the election. If you do nothing else, please make a donation right now at https://movement.vote/ 





This poem is another hainet, a series of seven haiku that act like a sonnet in some ways. I usually revise poems fifty times or more, but these poems of the week are raw. I have done a little tweaking to the poem and to the video, but it’s mostly a first take. I will print the text of the poem below, and I will include what I wrote at the top of the page about this strange and wondrous new form I’ve invented:





These hainets are teaching me as I go. Sometimes they are ladders, and sometimes they are fall leaves drifting down going a little this way and then back and then a little that way and then back before coming gently to rest, and sometimes they are like a fall leaf swirling in a gentle whirlpool in a stream, circling back to the beginning before floating off and dropping to the bottom, and sometimes they are like all of those at once…





nasturtiums crane necks
geese fly south high overhead
ears cup like blossoms

huge basswood leaves fall
yikes platters slide off high shelves
gentle angels catch

so many colors
red purple orange yellow
eyes flit like fall birds

old man wakes fall days
alarmed and turns young and strong
to stack winter wood

dark purple asters
preach wisdom from the good book
urge we stop and look

what will make winter
good is not just shed wood filled
but heart fall light filled

nasturtiums open
wide mouths turned to last warm light
to drink and to praise

10/1/24






				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week September 27, 2024
			


	
	
	

			

Here is my poem of the week for September 27, 2024. I wrote three sonnets and four of these sets of seven haiku that I call hai-nets, but was a hard week for me personally. I led a memorial service for a 65 year old woman I dearly loved who had many things she still wanted to do. 





Some of my poems were about it being too late, and most of them reflected not only grief but stress and lack of sleep–I was also trying to get my winter firewood work done. Then the long stretch of dry weather ended with two days of rain, and this hai-net came out of it. 





The loosely related haiku are about many things, but one theme is that it’s not too late. As I say on the video, though, as of November 6th it WILL be too late for what may be the most important world event in our lifetimes, so please do not let yourself wake up that morning feeling sick that you didn’t do all you could. 





Please use your voice, and please send the biggest donation you’ve ever made to support the youth and BIPOC grassroots groups that are fighting for their lives in swing states right now, going door to door. They are way underfunded, and they could make all the difference. Here’s how to support them: https://movement.vote/ 





The text of the poem is below the video:














first fall rain brings 
joy
eases drought eases hard work
invites needed naps

no frost yet 
so rain
keeps late garden growth going
tomatoes beans blooms

fall rain 
feels better
when the wood is in the shed
than when it is not

growth comes to the 
old
monk who uses rainy days 
for meditation

shelter from cold rain
fire to cook and sit beside
candles 
need the dark

welcome 
rock bottom
that hardest pain where we land
in that darkest fall

welcome cold hard dark
welcome this late chance to grow
joy 
it’s not too late

9/25/24











				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week September 20, 2024
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poem below.





Here is the Poem of the Week for September 20, 2024, a first draft classic Shakespearean sonnet in a first take video recording. The text is printed below. Springfield, Ohio was on my mind when I wrote it, and then last night I heard Tennessee state legislator Justin Pearson describe a meeting he had with Kamala Harris and other national youth leaders. She said that the best response to the racist, fear-mongering, hate-inciting lies (my words) being spread by Trump, Vance and MAGA was not to attack them or even stage protests, but to build community–diverse community that welcomes and serves all.





This Sunday I’ll be preaching about Beloved Community, quoting the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s essay about the nonviolent Civil Rights Movement entitled “An Experiment in Love.” He said, “The Holy Spirit is the continuing community creating reality that moves through history. He who works against community is working against the whole of creation. Therefore, if I respond to hate with a reciprocal hate I do nothing but intensify the cleavage in broken community. I can only close the gap in broken community by meeting hate with love.” Here’s my poem, written a few days before all these thoughts came together:





We need each other. I mean left and right,
poet and grouse, the hunter needs her prey
and even somehow with enlightened sight
we see earth needs us, too. It’s nature’s way.
To love your enemies is common sense.
We’re “entertaining angels unawares”
constantly—photons, microbes—through our fence
come deer and woodchucks, skunks beneath porch stairs.
We need the immigrant, the refugee,
we need their stories, wisdom, all they know,
we need all loves, all yearnings to be free,
the fast need voices warning, “Wait, go slow!”
So do not trust the voice of fearful hate.
Be still and know each heart truth. Then relate.
9/14/24

				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week 9/13/24
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poem below.





This is the most important moment of our entire lives for using our voices, speaking our truths, speaking the truth that our heart and community and earth tell us must be spoken. It’s wonderful that Taylor Swift uses her voice, but really, what will make the decisive difference in this time is each of us speaking, however we speak, to anyone and everyone we can reach–a check-out person at the store, our email list–offering our own words, our own story. Each late summer and early fall my least favorite birdsong takes over the airwaves in my neighborhood. It tells me what I don’t want to hear–that I need to get that woodshed filled, that garden harvested and put to bed, the homestead ready to be under snow. This sonnet is a first draft poem of the week, and the video a first take, celebrating the role of the blue jay in my life, speaking truths I may dread but moving me to action I need to take. This poem also gives encouragement and thanks to you for using your voice. I am so grateful–sing boldly, please! Here is the poem’s text, in classic Shakespearean sonnet form: 

The blue jays have a song and time to sing 
when they convey the urgency of fall, 
when sweeter songbirds shift from nest to wing, 
brains changing as they hear their journey call, 
so even if you squawk or screech or caw, 
the time will come for you to use that voice. 
Trust in the Spirit’s way, in nature’s law, 
in natural selection’s prudent choice— 
you may not know the reason why you write 
or paint or sing, why make neglected art, 
but jays remain when other birds take flight, 
and as leaves turn, their song can turn a heart 
to face the tasks put off too long by dread 
and speak harsh truths earth tells us must be said. 

9/7/24

				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week 9/6/24
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poem below.





Here is the Poem of the Week for September 6, 2024–the text of it is below, and so is a bonus video of a single haiku.





I wrote some sonnets and a hymn this week as my daily poems, and also more of these “hai-nets” and for some reason they have been winning the Poem of the Week award recently. They are seven loosely linked haiku. They have traditional 5-7-5 syllable counts, but otherwise they are pretty loosely haiku, too.





I mention “empire” in this poem, which the ancient mountain poets regularly were fleeing from, and which I am, too, to the extent that I can. But it matters hugely who gets elected in this nation this November–HUGELY–so please join me in doing all you can with your voice and resources over the next two months. We want that “one good heart seed” to win. Please please please! Thank you! 

mostly these neighbors 
like a peaceful loving life 
but news reaches here 

past mountain poets 
did not carry smart phones weren’t 
tied to what they fled 

what must people do 
to be out of empire’s reach 
satellites planes drones 

old hermit logs on 
password always “inthetao” 
free heart takes hard work 

too much to do too 
much to do the barred owl hoots 
then gets back to work 

no matter who wins 
good side bad side still each year 
weeds threaten gardens 

neighbors here tend land 
all different kinds of beauty 
from one good heart seed 

9/4/24










				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week 8/30/24
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poem below.





Here is the poem of the week for August 30, 2024, first draft, first take. It’s about being woke to beauty, and I say that intentionally, aware of all that woke means. The same people who are afraid of us being woke to historic, present and systemic racism are afraid of us being woke to how they have stolen a trillion dollars from the middle class since the Reagan revolution of the rich or woke to how they are destroying the earth, but as Brian McLaren points out in his must-read book Life After Doom, we need to be woke to beauty as well. The destroyers of the earth should be even more afraid of beauty-wokeness because it unleashes the power of our love to tend and defend. So here is a series of seven loosely linked poems in haiku form, a “hai-net” fresh from this week:





life creates beauty
miracle enough
but then
hearts
that love beauty





life
that wild artist
made so many blossom scents
and then
garden sense





church easter lily
your heart saved from compost
blooms!
in your fall
garden





beautiful old old
wrinkled sagging flesh
wise one
she shines
and we love





even roadside weeds
browning and
bent with fall dew—
brave
complex—
life shines





great oaks and thickets
sleeping beauty
among thorns
love and kiss
this life





life makes us
to love so love
will make us tend life
dear heart
do your part





8/26/24

				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week 8/23/24
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poem below.





This “poem of the week” written on August 23rd is a collection of loosely linked haiku that took off from my observation of dahlias and green beans being neighbors in our garden, but the poem turned out to be political. (The text is below.) I appreciated the Democratic National Convention redefining the Democratic Party as a much wider tent not only by featuring many Republican speakers who support the Harris-Walz ticket, but also by many speakers, including Kamala Harris and Tim Walz, expressing gratitude for growing up in diverse neighborhoods where people cared about and helped one another no matter how different they were. 





I feel a special love for my neighbors who are loving and generous-hearted across political or any other kind of line that could divide. That’s the party that can save America and save this earth–the unconditional, neighborly love party. Thank you for being a part of it! Please use your voice! 





Here’s the text of the poem: 

big deep red dahlias 
their garden corner sings joy 
to neighbor green beans 

our neighbors work hard 
we hear them as we work too 
pounding mowing songs 

rooster and hen calls 
neighbor children new baby 
their songs make us glad 

town picnic stranger 
she believes we are all one 
acts it and it’s true 

white or purple gold 
fall asters, orange monarchs 
share sweet just right air 

wind brings neighbor air 
here we send sweet scents and peace 
we work hard to make 

come look a long time 
into deep red cupped petals 
then turn sing share light 

8/23/24


























				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week 8/16/24
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poem below.





I talk about the context of the poem in the video and a little about the form. It’s a classic Elizabethan sonnet, but it has more than one volta or turn, and the rhythm plays some tricks, which is fitting because it’s about spinning out of control. 





Also, I highly recommend Brian McLaren’s book Life After Doom that I mention in my introduction. 





Here is the poem: 

360s down a steep slope skating rink— 
my toddler daughter in the truck jump seat— 
a cliff on one side—we slide toward that brink 
and slam, spin, slam, by grace or lucky cheat, 
against the three trees on that deadly side. 
There’s nothing I can do with brake or wheel. 
I let go, turn and smile, as if to slide 
and smash and spin dizzy is fun to feel, 
as if I know that things will work out right, 
because the only thing in all my mind 
is care for her, the urge to hold her tight 
and have her know that life can still be kind— 
even when, past control, all falls apart— 
a gentle snow bank comes, a loving heart. 





8/15/24
















				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem(s) of the Week 8/9/24
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poems below.





Here are two Poems of the Week for August 9, 2024. This week the influence of American oligarchs was on my mind as the nation saw their brazen attempts to destroy democracy and take more complete control. Why would people who have so much money want to make earth anything other than a peaceful, just paradise for all? Well, they don’t, so these poems are about where we can find comfort, guidance and strength in the face of this reality. 





I chose two because they cover the same territory in two different ways. The first is a hai-net, one of my seven-loosely-linked-haiku poems, with some similarities to the sonnet. The second is a classic Elizabethan sonnet. Both are true to form except for their line-breaks.





these woods we walk through 
thickets and tall old growth groves 
grew here 
without us 

the trees know their way 
acorn red sprouts 
root 
grow green 
we get lost in there 

our house phoebes nest 
lay, hatch and feed new phoebes 
that go the same way 

no one taught buddha 
but his life 
that heard its truth 
be still 
and know god 

hurricanes toxins 
massive forces 
this woods finds 
ways to overcome 

rich and powerful 
crush lives destroy earth 
lost lost 
hear your acorn heart 

earth will outlast us 
but still could teach us 
the way 
we were born to know 
8/4/24 

The only thing 
      that we can look to 
            now is what has been 
our one hope 
      all along: a human conscience 
            that will not 
allow the ultimate 
      ascendancy of wrong, 
            however strong, without 
a final fight, and here we are, 
      our next last chance 
            at hand to turn humanity 
to choose 
      the light of love 
            for all the earth, 
and take our stand with 
      Gandhi, Hebrew Prophets, 
            Buddha, Christ, all mothers, 
microbes, forests, 
      corals, birds who teach 
            our heart what must be 
sacrificed, who show the way 
      in loving acts and 
            words: life wants to live! 
And it will be our guide 
      if we rise now and fight 
            on love’s meek side. 
8/3/24






				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week 8/2/24
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poem below.





Here is the Poem of the Week for August 2, 2024. This is another hai-net (pronounced high net), a series of haiku that share some of the qualities of a classic sonnet. (I write a poem every day and wrote three of these this week and four sonnets.) Sweat had been literally pouring down me minutes before as I was out in another hot, humid day doing one of those order-making tasks, this time stacking firewood in the woodshed. Here is the text:





little rain forecast
somehow eight inches fell hard
we can’t trust the sky

feels good to stack wood
fold laundry make the house neat
some control somewhere





goldenrod sneezes
worth it–queen annes lace tall stocks
let mess be good too

slow storms make flash floods
gandhi prayed silent two weeks
then launched the salt march

pink steeplebush bloom
made up of many small flowers
church as a movement

fear makes us crazy
let the sky bring what it brings
if rain falls on love

love could fix the sky
enough love brings enough rain
if billions love hard

7/30/24

				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week 7/26/24
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poem below.





I am posting this on the website several days late…





In the past week I wrote four sonnets and three of these series of seven haiku I call hai-nets because they have some of the classic characteristics of sonnets. I was deeply moved on the day I wrote this by receiving a photo from a long time ago with people and animals in it that I had dearly loved. I try not to be logical when I write these hai-nets, so they respond in intuitive, quirky ways to the emotions and memories that were flooding me. Here’s the text: 

just picked up
the sticks 
my mower blade 
has complained of 
ten thousand times 

so long things 
don’t change then one day 
first frost first fire 
ten thousand fall leaves 

the old photo 
shows us back 
in our late 20s 
many changes 
back 

she was so young 
then 
skinny dipping 
godiva 
still lives 
eternal 

old monk 
heron 
stalks the pond outlet 
watches 
as flesh 
flows beyond time 

hummingbird hovers 
wanting these sweet 
porch nectars 
life’s so short 
please drink 

all you 
I once loved 
my love has grown 
and still grows 
all 
is still good 
there 

7/23/24

				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week 7/19/24
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poem below.





Here is my poem of the week. You can listen on the video or read the text below. It’s another of my hai-nets, a loosely linked series of seven haiku with some of the characteristics of a sonnet. This time the haiku are stealth–they are classic 5-7-5 syllable counts but the line breaks hide that fact. I wrote this on the morning of the 17th and later Christina cut my hair, thus the discrepancy between the words and image.





first cicada song
cool breeze
through the shady lawn
heats
buzz
around it

weeds high
hair
too long
too little sleep
dizzy
ah
old friend
comes for tea





swallowtail circles
back and
back
to red bee balm
enough?
no
not yet

old poets gather
sip saki and write haiku
savor and laugh long

escape
to deep
woods
while empires
do
what they do
here we make
life
good

empires
won’t
let be
citizens
of spirit realm
they
hate
our peace here

greed is so
silly
how it kills
the life
it needs
poets laugh
to death

7/17/24

				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week 7/12/24
			


	
	
	

			





You can read the poem below.





Here is my poem of the week of July 12th, posted a few days late. It was written on July 5th, way back before the assassination attempt and about a thousand other earth shaking events. It still feels timely enough to share. It’s a first draft and the video is a first take. Meanwhile I keep writing a poem a day, responding to the natural and human and spiritual world. Here’s the text I read in the video. Again the message is, Use Your Voice–to good ends.





The robin chased the hawk away
by voice, naming it
loudly
so that all would
hear, defending life by
love’s courageous choice
to rise
and fly toward
what it knew to fear.





There comes a time
when we must fight off
threat, blood thirsty
bugs that bite or thugs
that sting. It is their
nature,
we must not forget, just
as it is that cowards
want a king. We need to have
compassion
as we fight.





The corporation’s
greed
began as
need.





To risk our lives for
truth,
for what is right, allows the
eggs to hatch and young
to feed. There always will be
hawks,
till this world ends. Love’s
wisdom
fights to let them live
as friends.





7/5/24

















































































				


	



			
				


	

							
Poem of the Week 7/5/24
			


	
	
	

			





You can hear the poems in this video and read the text with an introduction below.





Here are two poems from this week, which has been one of the hardest in our nation in my lifetime and maybe ever, between the debate a little over a week ago and two Supreme Court decisions that have been devastating to democracy and the rule of law and protection from the abuses of Presidents and big corporations. These two poems are both loosely-connected sequences of seven traditionally structured haiku. The structure of the seven is a little like a sonnet, with internal echoes and a turn in the middle, so I call them Hai-nets. The first is on grief, and the second on happiness, written out of my struggles through this week. The text is below, and I read them on the video.





some days too much grief
too little comfort until
the woods trail says come





back home in these trees
death turns to new life each step
old leaves new leaves nuts





sometimes even here
it’s too hot or loud jets jays
deep hemlock peace come





bear’s been here again
old monk leaves no stone unturned
to find what gives life





not welcome at home
with nothing anyone wants
dog finds a dense bush





high up the woods trail
deer cock ears blink but don’t run
if you’re here you’re home





if you go back down
share what you found the long view
what earth makes of grief





7/2/24





I love goldfinches
how they swoop yellow and black
they flash out happy





happy is hard now
news flashes and angry tones
but bird song dawn light





birds eat harmful bugs
then sing of hungry beaks fed
earth’s song of balance





old haiku poet
steps like deer out of dark woods
to flash like goldfinch





to have quiet joy
sometime each day sing out loud
hard rain frees stream flow





denial is good
in moderation sabbath
see eden here now





don’t tell goldfinches
gold empires plot their earth’s death
give love’s joy a chance





7/4/24