Tuesday Prayer

I've been struggling with the sonnet form. You might guess that when you read this sonnet. It seemed right, however, to express today's prayer in a form that doesn't come easy for me.

Tuesday Prayer

for K.L.S.

The unfolding of a silver-tipped wing,
the visitation of dew to the garden,
while off in the distance a catbird sings,
this is the morning now broken again.

Begonias are leaning pink to the sun,
lavender pansies hide petals with mint,
you look and the day feels already done,
hold on, my girl, the sky is a hint

that even on mornings broken and still
the world is imbued with a wild resilience
falling from hands that will hold you until
silver-tipped wings stir hope and resistance.

Hold on, my girl, love whispers beside you,
the Butterfly Bush is op'ning its purple-bud hue.

Cataloging Life: June Garden Journal

Sitting outside with my rose petal tea this morning, I didn't feel like writing.

A garden journal, I thought. Ah, yes, that seemed just the thing. So I took my camera into the sunrise and captured a little glory that is special to June...



Clover alone amidst field grass.




Buttercup bright with hope.




Feverfew hiding behind the garden.




Pansies wet with dew.




Blueberries on their way to blue.