Past the Shadows

In the heart of the meadow,
In the heart of a friend,
There is light in the shadow
There is light at the end,
Whether barefoot and broken,
Or clothed and in pain,
There lies love in the token
Of light past the rain.

Lessons

There are many things I have yet to see,
Many places and people to seek,
Many a virtue to find and be,
Lost in the Almighty hand of God.
I have traveled some weary roads,
I have carried a breaking load,
Many a river, and many a flood
Has barred me from things I cannot see.
Yet---in the pursuit of soft, bright flowers
Blooming and bending beneath the hours
I look at some fair and freeing power
Which is ever-present in the wood.
Nature's calamities bare no scorn,
Offer no anger against winter's war,
And the petals that on those harsh winds are borne
Sing nothing, save joy to their Lord.

Mockingbird, Cry

There is a silence in the staid night,
And a mockingbird calls by the shining moon
His cry is the loneliness of black-dyed skies
Glad with the cosmos' fair-flung boon.
White wings lift like storks in the painted shade
Leaves whisper thanks as they flutter down,
Through the still shadow, magnolias hush:
One single feather drifts onto the ground.

A Soft Question

Let my heart in harmony,
Be in league with distant seas,
With the sprouting branch of spring,
And the glen's green feathered ring.
Let my heart, when it is tired,
Seek the star's celestial fire,
And in this, let all my dreams
Rest within eternity.

Shenandoah

Shenandoah, I long to see
Your rising river, crashing sea
The beauty from your lips of fire
The forest of your heart's desire.
Shenandoah, light and fair
Lily blossoms in your hair
Eyes like moons in silent frost
Dark with tangled bits of moss.
Shenandoah, on you stand
In the falling water's land
By the sun your deerskin skirt
Flutters, warm and brown, alert.
Shenandoah, one day I'll find
You within the summer's mind
Like the free and mighty deer
Or the streamlet, chilled and pure.

Sweet Spring Voice

I toss the blossoms in the air
The sweet, sweet scent of springtime flies
To join the arching vault of skies
And lie again in petals fair.
My hands are stained with golden dyes
Thin, furling leaves trace woodland paths
And bits of bud flirt in the grass
Worthy of a summer's soft reply.

In My Hands

A pale, thin ray of straining sun
Slipped through my clenching fist
I still refused to let it run
And stifled it to rest.
Oh, how could I, who knew no light
Let it disturb my mind
A thing which turned the sheet of night
And healed the broken blind?
Too great to hold, too fair to free
A thing of grace and peace
Before my heart could learn to flee
The sun made its release.

Goodbye, Winter

Goodbye, winter, say 'goodbye',
Hear the snowflake's final sigh,
Sparks of frost and dewdrops fly
In the pale and withered sky.
Bracing arms against the sting
Blossoms struggle into spring
Breaking out and trembling
In the woven, weeded ring.
Bending head and turning claw
Creatures wake from slumber's call
Crystal beak and frozen paw
Slip from branches black and raw.
Goodbye, winter, go away
Let the spring's ephemeral wave
Like the sliver of a ray
Pierce your hardened heart today.

New Spring

We have reached the winter's end,
There is spring upon the coast,
And the river's gentle bend
Is devoid of snow and frost.
There are buds upon the limbs,
And a chick is in the tree
And the little newborn lambs
Bleat in amiability.
There is sweetness in the air
We can taste it, with the earth
Full of leaves from blooming pears
And the raindrop's sparkle-mirth.
We have left the ice behind
There is newness coming through
If we search, then we will find
Newness in our spirits, too.

Strawberry Horizon

There's a light on the horizon,
Colored scarlet with the dawn,
Bright with copper beads of vapor
Through the soft and breathing lawn,
With its fields of rushing grasses
And its skies of burning gray,
It's a strawberry horizon
Lifting up the break of day.
There's a sparrow on the picket
And a rabbit on the hill
With its nose within the thicket
And its ears against the chill
And it watches the horizon
Whiskers braced against the breeze
It can smell the loss of moonlight
And the fragrance of the trees.
In the early pale of morning
Foxes dance within the light
Paws a cadence of a warning
To their prey that take to flight;
And the does seem softly watchful
Eyes reflecting red and gold
In the rays from rising sunshine
And the snap of fading cold.
It's a strawberry horizon
Thick with crimson-swelling beams
And the clouds that edge the heavens
Are the opening little leaves.