It's 8:30 ish & I'm sitting outside

     with a spring morning sun

     stirring spring singing birds

and I am thinking this is worship

     this listening

A few hungry birds taunt the cat

     they don't even know it

     she unseen

     and unseeing

A bird's nest 

     in a barren tree

     across the street

     is a promise

Distant motorcycles roar through the natural song

Crimson Nandina berries 

     heavenly bamboo

     sacred bamboo

     dewy

over-wintered 

     peppermint. oregano, and dusty miller stretch to the morning sun song

     fresh lavender and new pansies

a blind one-eyed cat

fresh coffee

a job to do

Who am I to be so rich?

small earth 

freshly sown

hope in heart

tucked in a small space

in an overlooked valley

by a creek we hear

but rarely see

neighbors yet known

"He said, "That you love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and muscle and intelligence—and that you love your neighbor as well as you do yourself."  (Luke 10:27, the Message)

Why reluctant posting 2?  It's unnerving to have bits of my quiet journal displayed - a most intimate conversation.  I fight it.  My most intimate heartbeat cast out to a windy world.  What if no one notices?  

Mumford & Sons, Roll Away Your Stone