photo  yellow flowers


There is no accounting 

for the way my heart sings 

during the early morning spring 

walk from home to office. 

Beauty shimmers in soft waves 

from the familiar:   the dreamy white puffs 

of blossoming fruit trees;

exuberant tiny pink flowers cascade

from the slender maroon trunk

that sloughs a soft papery bark

that you long to slide your 

fingers under the cool slices

and peel.

I trek to the

simple wooden poetry post 

and read

 the evocative words 

  of the neighbor-poet 

I have never met in person

but with whom I’ve felt

a soul-met. 

 The intoxicating waft of


summons my dazed senses

and the canary-bright buds

bring blistering joy

to my heart. 

This pilgrimage renews by

providing a deep rest in what is near 

and known.

This walk restores by

revealing unknown beauty

in the everyday-elements.

Walk the joy-journey.

Walk, willing.

Walk it well.



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