The late sun on the daffodils. The thinnest gossamer haze across the valley, all wheat meadows and deciduous trees. A hedgerow, a telegraph line, a row of still-bare oaks make up middle-distance horizontals. Nearer, bird feeders sway in the merest breeze. Sparrows alight, silhouetted by falling rays, flaring through the edges of dense conifers. An evening chorus for the golden sky.

shadow, nurtured


Breath, focused,
Will make one supple.
Vision, cleansed,
Will make one pure.
Love, lead, but do not impose.
Be as content with what goes,
As what comes.
Stand back from the brink
Of understanding.
Think, but do not dwell.
Create, but do not cling.
Grow, but do not exert.
The shadow, nurtured,
Will make one whole.