Betide, my heart — the best laid plans lub dub, love — as every wave draws back.

Wind in trees, big band songs, my own shut eyed sway — slow dancing for this day.

I balk to pluck the best berries birds dash to bits singing, ca–nae–keeeeep!

"Pie and coffee, please" — and the waitress' sweet toothed smile. "Strawberry shake."

Done, I looked around, found I'd resurfaced into the unexpected.

take time you haven't got, torn scraps for magic; how else get there, let go

Empty boxes, flour sacks, vials of ink to fill my outbound heart with home.

Miracle of flights' uplifting foreborn fallen dreams fleet in my life.

Out of the smoke my hair down waves of peat dark bar where softness began.

Feeling not fallen but fighting, not in place but upstream, flowing. Love.

As a child only the moon stroked my hair the full distance between us.

Let's close this distance, take the space to cast our stones and hands out, embrace.

"Therefore they who know that enough is enough will always have enough." -Lao Tsu, Tao Te Ching

In my forest bed ear prickled by a spider I must await gone.

Each hour after dawn draws on birdsong never heard before you listened.

Bloom yeast for bread, crush cabbage with summer's kraut — in snow scent the way home.

One thing love is to look from every perspective falling in anew.

Busy missing the forest for the future (the future of trees, natch).

Ne'er before, bitter nor sweet: craved before bloom, dreamed before I knew rest.

Strength doesn't over react in flex; butterflies shoulder the world's winds.