Today’s Walk

snowyWindChime

Wind-chimes hallow my walk
between pristine blue and white
on single shovel-width path
past small and larger homes
down to my all-season magnet,
Greenbelt Lake.

Among the still trees
unidentified flying subjects
emit intermittent tweets.
Some I attempt to interpret:
“See, see, see, see; hear, here,”
perky mantras.

Suddenly I’m startled
by a man on my left saying
“Told to do this we’d prob’ly balk.”
“True” I reply “but we choose….”
Musing: told not to do this walk
I would prob’ly balk.

What could keep me inside,
avoiding this snow-packed trail?
How could I ignore these grand white
gulls, black wing tips spread wide?
Could I compose a soul poem
on a day without a walk?

Joyous Return

Back home in Dayspring’s Lodge of the Carpenter,
coming to life after hibernation.
Yoke Room window vista beckons.
Soon I will leave this fire-crooning warmth and
join the steady crowd of tall bare trees,
thankful beyond words for their magnificent
yet humble, vulnerable endurance.
My eyes will rise to where their twig and bud tips
touch the unbelievable blue expanse.
Stinkbug on foyer window does not distract from
brown-grassed meadow panorama beyond
papery leaf-lit carpeted yard
edged with white tufted milkweed stalks,
harbingers of summer monarchs.
Snow-laced mown paths invite me to venture forth
down to the Lake of the Saints.
On the way I will pass the vivacious evergreens
who seem to greet me by name, “Good Morning, Marjorie”
and expect my recognizing response, “Good to see you again,
Ruthie, Elizabeth, Louise, Theresa, Pauline…”