The Luna Moth

May 30, 2016

He camped out two days on my front door.
Spring green wings like newness, like birth
But he was already old.

One week he had to live.
One week as an adult to enjoy this ‘ole earth, to mate, to serve his purpose.
He spent a third of it with me.

The next morning, he had dropped to the ground and I thought his time was up.
So, I tucked him safely into my car to show my friend, the horticulturist.
I touched and blessed his velvet wings.

Little did I know, he was still alive, until he fluttered like soft eyelashes around my car.
I kept driving, I had no choice, he settled again like an old man, still.

And then came the surprise:
When I opened the door to show my friend,
the Luna Moth flew mightily out and rose high into the sky straight over our heads like a helium balloon released.

It made me happy to watch him soar–one last flight before his demise.

I learn from nature. I always have.

I learned from my new companion, the gift of moments, the courage in dying,
something strong, eternal, and bold.

Surface Tension

May 26, 2016

Water striders spread eagle across molecules
The air summons them, the water is their home

They do not sink
They cannot
But walk on water like Jesus

It’s been sown–those blue-green seeds sprinkled like stardust in my yard
Now, I wait.
Like Advent disposition–I watch and wait
Hope for the rain
It comes
Now for the sun
And the germination is done

Soon, tiny shoots–fine like baby hair–will pierce the air

I wait
I hope
I watch the grass grow.

I’m a runaway slave.
following Harriet
I turn and look behind me
sweat pours off my face
pools beneath my breasts
my hair is soaked

I run
I run for my life

Look for signs

Follow the underground path
like an Indian
read the woods
each twig, broken branch
study quilts in a hurry
hastily leap across the creek
past the huge Beech tree

Turn left at the moss
and you’re almost free!