Spring is summoned out of icy doldrums
with icicle melt comes the crocus
poking their heads through snow vestiges.
The Buddha in my garden uncoverd sits
naked in the morning sun, wondering
if the chives and rosemary survived.
And what of the goldfish in the pond?
A new child, a spring arrival.
We see her movements on computer video
hear her unique sounds.,
and we are at once enchanted.
All this bliss as we watch the war begin on a different screen,
the blaze, in reds and oranges,
against the indigo backdrop
a silhouette of buildings, spirng arrival unnoticed.
Surrel, distant images,
troops, trucks and ordnance plowing through
Will there be peace in Iraq?
and now Afkanistan.
Nothing is impossible,
and will the priest heal the sick
Melting icicles in the yard
signal normal in my world.
I wish for this peace for those wounded in
the name of the creator of us all.
A huge raven flying over the trees lands on a branch near the window,
and his black feathers
shimmer in the sun.
I watch his drkness as I wait
for doves to appear.