Moonlight Sonata

  I stand in the garden watching a crescent moon hover above the tips of the fir trees.  The thrushes surge in their singing as they do at that twilight hour and the newly arrived swallows swirl about the eves. Music drifts out an open window and I realize it is my son playing piano. …

Drift

Summer and the day drifts and shifts away. Like clouds. Shape of a rooster or whale. Shaded patterns along grasses. Branches that bend against sky. Or leaves. Dappled.  There are shouts of a man and the bark of a dog.  Voice of an owl calling,  in an evening,  as the day slips, as you study…

God Is Here

When I last travelled the desert, I passed this one empty house.  It was along a flat stretch of highway.  A straight away nearly twelve miles long. Springtime was busting out.  The desert filling with promise. Green spotted the hills and I could see dots of little yellow flowers. And rain.  Rain was loving the…