Poety Picnic

Often during the weekends when people are just starting to stir in the morning, I'm already heading home to enjoy a mid-morning nap. :) This was the case last weekend when I had a "Poetry Picnic." I prepared my Prius hatchback with large pillows and blankets, swung by Starbucks for breakfast and coffee supplies, then headed off to a small park that overlooked a lake in the distance to chill with God and write some poems! It does take planning and commitment to make yourself go and soak in the advantages of having a small adventure like this. Transformation isn't all effort but it does takes some...and I had a wonderful time! :) Here are some of my introspection's from the day.

angel's mow line path

"Crisp apple, spring green dancing leaves mirrors crowd movement at a concert. More bird songs than my ears can count. Cold breeze quickens with the sun rise, deep sigh, ripples move across some standing water that one mesquite tree uses as a vanity mirror. Like an Olympic diver, a large circling bird drops from one elevation to another with precision & iambic style. I imagine angels walking along the edge of the woods like the mow line is their a.m. garden path. They nod a "Good morning, God be yours" greeting and I nod back with a soft grin and a gentle "And yours as well." These are the times of deep life, when you cozy up to imagination and childlike faith. When mystery is your companion and the friend who pulls you along. May the Lord be your God."

mesquite tree and it's vanity mirror

"Bounty within, be true.

Reaching the dreamland, regardless

are beauty and discoveries available.

In moments, live wholly.

Woven courage

the real words, stories, dreams

are stones on the path under foot."

"Spring's day-lit notch of moon

trekking miles beyond, I'm hunting.

Authenticity is my prey;

closed eyes, heart thumping.

When weapon is the written word

moon, you do not have escape!

I'll capture you with ink and fiber

to watch you until night break."

Favorite Poem I read that morning by Christina Rossetti.
It moved me to strengthening tears.

"Wind uses bushes to whisper.
The mason is time, the activity rhyme
and peace is minister.
The sun spotlights leaf in Act One
the lines adlib, nature's participant forgives
the audiences' attention undone. "