Gush

For garden hoses’ flow

and heart’s good run

from here to there

Or how clouds blue blow

and morning’s open door

or fences’ send that never end

Or edges and

how their most sees all

but more

Even for color’s sound and evening’s strum —

that pulse

that grateful give and take

Yes and for some spin of course

and cakes and cups

before guests come

In-Waiting

 When I speak twig

above me

the sounds are unimaginable

Each swollen bud laces its shoes

and those earwigs their pinches

squeak out to my growing

gold days

They grab my damp heart in-waiting

And when I see such tremendous

shake-salting importance on bird tails

or feel the will that won’t that matters

it’s then from roofs atop me

that sudden notions wing me

towards how to live

When I turn into twigs now

my sap dives deeper

and the claps

clap louder —

up to those winking drip-song

wisely eaves

Listened Branches

These trees a choir

in early fine

their waking limbs

When snowflakes hear within themselves

of how beginning sounds

These few steps down

as up above

what crows inspire

their calls to to

or far abound

And trees the choir

this opened view

as reaching out

when clouds unbound

Hear frosts

slip in-between

whatever wants to sing

These browns of whispered green

These listened branches

the lyric light