Single blade of grass

Connecting the earth and air

Is existential

The map of the stars

A slow celestial spin

Turning in her heart

Ancient characters

Scribed on scrolls of papyrus

Now we scroll down screens

When restless youth climbs

The tree that holds up the sky

The height is a thrill

The ecliptic sun

Defers to the hood of night

Glimpsing at the day

He is an Edsel

Once thought too homely to ride

Now he turns their heads

Keep the fire ablaze

Build it on the highest cliff

Where it can be seen

Leave it to fortune

Let the clock wind down and stop

See what will become

Hearth of family

Fills the house with holiday

Join hands and rejoice

Time becomes a snake

It coils in tight presumption

And takes its own tail

What is miniscule

In the reckoning of time

Homo Sapiens

Here’s a wee beetle

Whose beetle brain is meager

But fit for eight legs

Dearest humankind

Why can’t you remember this?

Greed has not a friend

We have such fortune

But if we should lose one thing

It would be temper

Hope every day

For the company of love

In the year ahead

A cold brumal night

Whilst under a white blanket

Just barely breathing

To be part of one

That’s the miracle of love

To be more than one

Soporific snow

Tucks the garden into bed

To dream of summer