naming each second
time slides forward a serpent
leaving a dry mark
winter departing
perhaps a blow in reserve
clear is the sunlight
never forgetting
message changing with the day
ordinary things
spinning into place
spring promises a new hope
but the wheel trundles
magical moment
the evening comes with no fuss
relaxing our minds
moon looms large at dawn
bloody tides reveal nothing
winter declining
under trees flowers
daffodils proclaim springtime
seaonal notice
life continuing
stars in their cycles declare
time goes by swiftly
silvery light dawns
february will be warm
snow in far places
we begin a new
nest like birds in early spring
trees in the sunset
morning's too early
but winter vanishes now
season is turning
even in this place
where now i make my dwelling
the calm has rewards
while in my office
i hear the birds of morning
life never silent
others too hear them
the common voice of springtime
heralding the green
on wall wolf shadow
heart leaps before seeing truth
a broom and plant pots
swift are tiny birds
on and off the porch they flit
above others sing
pale blue the vision
nature smiles at the soft breeze
evergreens dancing
signal of the spring
the tender buds that appear
on stark bare branches
winter now retreats
this battle is not over
yet war is turning
reviving spirits
this shining afternoon sun
long hours remaining
even at this late hour
duty obliges action
yet thought fast fading
accepting that minds
exhaust faster than bodies
is never easy
relax tomorrow
the race begins in earnest
finish line nearing
yet only after
full sleep has been completed
can action begin
sunset in winter
bare branches grasp cold blue sky
cannot hold the light
clouds puffy serene
tell lies about the season
sun has no warming
waiting for students
the light tells me sad stories
nightfall must happen
at winter's turning
we celebrate your birthday
wishing you the best
make much of this year
time moves so swiftly onward
never returning
be bold and flourish
show forth your noblest metal
be victorious
enjoy the moment
this is your day be happy
know that you are loved
consider the bird
it sleeps in deepest silence
remaining quite warm
consider the clock
it stays awake the whole night
yet remains quite cold
consider the man
he remains awake till late
beholds clock shivers
shades keep out the dark
winter whips the trees outside
too short the daylight
preparing again
to explain the simple truths
that keep things working
no reason to wait
yet the desire of wisdom
may still have allure
shadow on the wall
a flying ship caught mid-air
creeping upward flight
through the trees blue sky
clarity of winter light
yet warm is the day
another country
speaking over internet
time's perfection
things come together
not with sudden noisy force
but slow and silent
the darkest morning
is still busy and fervent
with rushing workers
the turning earth hides
the sun from sight but cannot
truly dim its light
appointing the time
for right action and making
is no proper way
instead of waiting
in darkened rooms full of dread
enter the daylight
no imperative
outranks the urging of life
but can suppress it
walking the distance
a job not just a duty
ignore the rainfall
end of a sad year
next year possibly sadder
still soft rain falling
we see no shadows
the darkness enveloping
avoids all answers
fusion of daylight
the sharp shadow is floating
high on the porch wall
afternoon practice
tea in warm sunshine a smile
pacific moment
no angry speaking
rather the calmer approach
rewards the waiting
Life with small children:
tiring but so rewarding,
smiling memory.Cliché: they grow fast,
so true; but now enjoy them,
love is what matters.
fragments of darkness
minds do not cope with such things
waiting for sunrise
at night the neighbour
does her laundry just when we
need most to slumber
odour of honey
the afternoon is passing
autumn declining
away north snowfall
announces winter's presence
before calendar
cloudy but warmer
our weather gives us something
redolent of spring
inside empty space
beyond empty space nothing
inside outside same
way up way down same
herakleitos knew
simple truth is right
river never same
wittgenstein does not tell us
what is not the case
all that is matters
not in any larger sense
only in our own
the sun tells us things
if we had wit to hear them
we would become real
as it is we can't
even hear the words spoken
by the kind breezes
instead we listen
to the false music coming
from our own sad hearts
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