//
The birds continue as they were
We keep evolving our latest noises
To bring supposed comfort
They have their own forts
Against our fortitudes
And they won’t budge.
We bring our gas leaf blowers
To blow away leaves from our golf courses. In the meantime
Egrets nest in that faux stream
We made to emulate tranquility.
The birds are already tranquil
In being, feeding singing, flying high, just being themselves,
Above us all. And they know how to nest, and when to migrate.
The squirrels are willing to deal with us
If interested, for a nut or two
But they too go Ariel eventually
Having gotten fed up
With our overwatering of their hidden nuts
They are nuts, I heard one say while climbing away on a telephone line yesterday. He was both explaining what he buried, and us. At least that was my take away!

//

The worth of a quarter

When I was working with homeless
And was nearly homeless myself
Back when I lived in my car
And studied art
(Which was the only reason I
Wasn’t technically homeless)
I used to call a friend every Sunday night
From a toll phone booth which no longer exists. It was my one weekly ritual-
Other than feeding the homeless with art
And sneaking into an occasional mass
To overhear the nuns praying.
Just to feel calm, that weekly phone call
Was all I had. For a quarter I could talk,
What felt like all night to her. She had a home and was one for me during those years. We would talk weather, religion
And how to live better daily.
She knew what I was trying to do about it.
And she knew when it didn’t work-for me or them.
And all I had was that night’s phone call.
But, One quarter’s worth of talk
Was enough back then.

I spent that same weekly quarter later
After 911 calling every friend I still had
On earth. Strangely recalling,
All their phone numbers by heart.
Trauma quickens the heart! And….

A quarter goes a long way
At the right time of day. Or,
It did in those days.

And everyone needs to call home
Or at least feel they are reporting in
To somewhere or someone who cares
A dime or two, or more
About you.

//

Trees know
Birds flow
We are meant to glow
Rivers glisten
We are meant to listen
Rocks and stones
Recall our bones
Dirt is our mother
And darkness our womb
And we are Lights
To see them all
By.
Wind is the whisper between us all
God whistling through everything
Until it is only One long endless song.
Each note playing its part
In Love’s Tone.

//
Prayer is an answer before asked
When we turn at all, we have received
What we really wanted all along
Prayer is turning
As small birds do
To their mother
When hungry
Prayer is a life worth living
Prayer is the orientation of blood
To the Heart.
Prayer places us in position
To catch the rain on our tongues, like kids,
As it falls. Prayer is all we are.
Or shows us who we might be
And already were once we started to pray.