On Yin and Yang

The hardwood flame leaps from the forge.

Ash gently falls to the ground.

Morning dew drips from the blade of a broken axe,

Nourishing a thirsty oak.

The oak’s roots pierce the earth’s crust,

Opening her up to absorb the morning dew.

A bucket of water extinguishes the forge,

A new axe is ready for the cutting of wood.

Sea Level

An afternoon walk in the woods,

Unsettled voices whisper in the trees,

Turbulent waters cascade over rounded stones to the lake.

I am a prisoner in paradise.

An early morning walk on the beach.

I am free…