The Grass Knows

I asked her where the sky started.
I doubt anyone asked her that in her four years.
She said she didn't know,
and pointed way up there.

I tapped her on the crown of her head,
and said it starts right there.

Even the grass knows where the sky begins.

Alienated

it is strange to be related to everything
to share our DNA and our elements
and still feel alienated

to lovingly dig into the earth
to feel the soil between my fingers
and then need to wash my hands

to gaze up at the clouds
in the bright blue sky
with my sunglasses on

to walk upon the earth
exploring its wonders
with shoes and socks on

how far I have come
arising from my genealogy
to leave my natural world

I was born here
like everything else
but I am now an alien

Sacrifices

Beneath the eternal rays
of the September sun,
grasses yellow in the wind
offering themselves
to their seed.

Above the ancient earth,
rooted in the soil,
trees bow with the weight
of their fruit,
and begin to cast away
their leaves.

Among the living,
flower petals wither away
to send their seed
into the world.

Grasses, flowers, herbs,
shrubs, and trees
sacrifice, giving themselves,
and their fruit and seed
to feed every creature,
and still they survive.

I wonder what I give.

Now...

shoes,
clothes,
gloves,
jacket,
hat,
sunglasses,
now
I am
an alien
to my own
planet...

A Coal Creek Elm

I believe
it is an elm
holding a pose
in this canyon,
by this stream;
an interpretative dance,
mirroring the canyon
and the sky;
a still, patient stance,
gathering winter light.
I dance with this elm
for a moment,
I believe.

Sometimes Hope Blooms In Our Window

The Mystery

the "tunnel"

Escalente, Utah.