Ripples

A collection of poems

Tues March 23

Haikus in workshop

Being the 1%

In the arena

Learning to ration the essentials

Taking the risk to fail

Defending an unknown line

“This job is insane.”

Making ripples without making waves

While being distracted by a photo of a section of honeycomb

I look for natures sweetness without being stung

Without hearing the haunting phrase, “man down”

Post Workshop

At the river’s edge, I hold my father’s pipe in my hand.

The wind blows the smoke as I admire an eagle that lands upon a cell phone tower.

Grey storm clouds hide and temporally lets the sun shine through

The current flows outbound to the ocean

I am the current, flowing.

I am the story of this pipe I have rebuilt.

I listen and smile as second eagle lands upon the tower

And nature and technology, contrast with the dark clouds.

Words and emotions of today’s workshop blend.

Joy is richer than happiness.

Curiosity is seeking commitment to embracing nature’s play.

Hope is honouring the hush that mutes the passing traffic nearby.