These Days

I’m looking for some point of fire,

I mean some point of view

Other than my own

Pretty soon life feels like

A hamster wheel, 

Retreading iterations of

The same old patterns, but 

Coming into the long era 

Where I am my own,

I begin to examine the

Universe of my riches, past,

Those treasures,

I remember all

The best

And cast off, forgetting

All the rest, because

I finally found a toehold

In my sea change,

Enough so I can ask 

The past, and that

Takes some courage, 

What now makes sense?

While some things are still 

The same, I’m looking

For the fire. 

Moon on the Fourteenth

Quarter moon

Just now, it’s brilliant, against 

Night ink blue, sceptered

Into some pure upstate sky, 

No clue, still I wonder 

Where in this world 

You are

Electric, gentle current

Time past, present,

These times 

I begin to 

Think into the 

Realm of larger pulse

New ways to navigate 

Another realm of how it goes,

Current eases, a bit of balance

Current

Unseason

You hear these new winds,

Weather winds, and 

Rather than fight them with

The way they ought to be,

From such and such a direction

At this or that particular time 

Of the year,

Gusting, blowing steady,

The best thing to do is to say

Yes, I know these winds,  

And bring to bear the small 

Knowledges you remember 

From the prairie, 

Onto your garden, the planning,

And the going in,

In the springtime 

That is coming.