Almost in the short rows…..

DSC04625edited
It’s May,   the reason I haven’t posted or come around to visit for awhile,
the marathon month for Rivergreen,  our small family business.
May,  the tiny window during which I dig a gazillion holes
and muster up soil from red clay and tuck in flowers and herbs and veggies and trees,
painting the earth with living art
in this small slice of time
before she turns up the oven quick and begins to bake the clay of my designs
into the gardens they’ll be for the long growing season.

It’s May,  the reason that I grin tired thanks for the wildflowers
winking from the roadways as I drive along dirty and sweat-soaked
and going in a hurry to the next somewheres that I’ve also gotta be.
It slows the too-fast of my heart to watch their effortless dance.
I love how simple.  How easy.

2015-05-10 19.42.24
I’m a little too pooped to write;
just want to share their smiles with you
because really they have their own way of saying
and it’s all too sweet and sacred to bungle with words.

I think of you while I’m down there on my knees,
you know,  humming your name to heaven
and smiling thanks for the gift that you are.

I’ll be back with more soon.
I’m almost in the short rows.

DSC04611edited
“The art of deep seeing makes gratitude possible.”
-Ann Voscamp

 

heaven humming….

DSC09142editededited

It’s May,
the reason I haven’t come around to visit
or posted for almost two weeks
-my marathon month….the teeeeny tiny little window of time
during which I have to
dig a gazillion holes,
muster up good soil from red clay
and tuck in flowers and veggies and shrubs and trees
then a whole heap more flowers
for about a hundred really excited-to-have-it-done-yesterday folks;
and faster,  please.

DSC09145editededited

It’s May,
the reason I grin at wildflowers winking from the roadside
living out their effortless dance.
They’re so easy to be with.

I’m a little too pooped to write;
just want to share their smiles with you
because really they have their own way of saying
and it’s all  too sweet and sacred
to bungle with words.

DSC09009editededited

And to let you know I think of you as I make my gardens,
your beauty finds me even there
and whispers light and joy
and I hum your names to heaven
and smile inside where I carry you in my heart.

I’ll be back with something more again soon.
I’m almost in the short rows.

DSC08991editededited

“The mere act of breathing is poetry in motion,
the art of life.
We are all artists
-our body is a brush,
the world is our canvas,
and life our painting.”

-Robert Taylor