I drag despondent patterns outside sleep-
less under a benevolent sky. Why
do I cringe to harvest what’s planted deep
in the mindset I’ve cultivated? My
creations snug under this existence
laborious and weighted cogs–I pause
to rescue a frog who distrusts my dense
clumsiness, each attempt shows gaping maws.
He declines a frisbee, boogy board, net
at my behest, unwilling guest, each trap
a miracle perceived as certain death.
And how am I the same? Plucked out and tapped
and frozen under tiny wildflowers
who’ve pushed up from thick mulch to praise the day.
I breathe into the lessons. I devour.
I click. The frog has still not leapt away.
Inspired by: Benevolent, Harvest, Despondent and Behest.
…love needs to run the show.~Thomas Huebl
Each factoid conflates and the
twittering ensues: a chirp of doubt
a caw of derision cues uneasy
flutters of the flock, buffleheads
suddenly alert. A silent bald
eagle swoops spiraling
a kick of panic, they rise
called to scatter, frantic.
It seems that things are breaking
away. The landscape shifts
earth shaking, heart aching.
Eerie, empty and the lap
of water here where I anchor
settle my electric nerves
though I may wish to fly
I find I’m rooted in relation.
How may I serve you?
Reactions seek ground. Out of
the box confined, away from
the flickering nervous screen
I bow before this glorious
life delightful flow
through me in ways
I cannot say. Silent now
leave the fray. Together
we will find a path
that’s kind. We go within.
Embrace the fear awaiting
I’m with you. In connection
we will hold a space
for what is true
emerging in our humble grace.