Thinking of You as I Weed Between the Peas and Beans

My fingers sink into the earth
like the beaks of hungry birds
plunging after the smooth sound
of worms escaping at midnight.

The peas curl their green tendrils around bamboo stakes
and the beans multiply their leaves by twos each day the sun returns
to remind them they are loved.

I touch them too—
gentle as I pull the undesirable distractions
that remove my resolve from between these new shoots
and instead must encourage the universe to expand to feed us like we are beggars—
our bowls empty as we pray for any small scraps that will fill us
with the light of the stars and the vibrations that pass between the cells
of every living being.

My belly longs for August
and the harvest that is promised me
if I focus on these small wonders,
breathe for these potent dreams
until they emerge strong
and ready to flower--
until they offer their fruit
abundant and full of summer and grace.

Until that warm time
I must be patient and content in my solitary place
near the satisfaction of dirt
and life in my hands.

At Dawn

Early morning light
be gentle as you touch my face,
wake me with a whisper
like a lover who dares not disturb
the peace of the night.

The night has been harsh
and peace was not present
in the breath that entered
that dark place
between the moon and her stars.

If only the moon could protect me
in the fullness of her gentle face
and the stars could whisper the way to freedom
I would make my path with no fear
to morning.

Lover be gentle light as you make your way
to touch my face.
Wake the freedom of love with no fear
with a whisper of peace in the night.
Your breath calls the moon and stars to bless us.