Canopies of Glory

Branches arch streets and sidewalks,
offer shade from hot sun,
sigh in soft winds saying no relief to roots.
Time for cement to go, loose
dirt to tickle tree toes, share nutrients
and shade, softness, glory, shelter, quiet,
now shifts to autumn to show new glory.

Trees I Have Met

Swaying beauties, oft dismissed
columns emptily treaded around.
Look up and see their capes, the 
soft shade embracing color shape design
food shelter comfort.
Shouldn't we take better care of them?

Morning Walk in Portland

Trees hover, leaving shadows,
dance of light, reflecting branches.
Coffee cup in hand,
I stumble over awkward sidewalks,
erupted by roots,
enjoying the beauty.

Photo and poem by MJC

Life Change

Trivial moments spiral,
arriving nonsensically,
angst driven.
What is the catch, the trigger
turning sadness to joy and laughter?
Maybe a long, satisfying walk,
vigorous bike ride,
or a child speaking or a butterfly slipping by.
Nothing much, but awareness.

Poem and sketches by MJC

Rainbows I Have Seen

Rainbows
celebrate light,
announcing the end of noisy blue rain storms
calming nerves caused by
lightening streaks and thunder beats of crazy drums.

Abstract Thought through Art

Abstract Art by Jordan

Children watch everything that we do and are involved whether we know it or not.  

Yesterday, while the children and  I were doing art together, I wrote a short poem and did a brief a sketch showing them how I blog.  The result is here.

This morning, my grandson brought me a picture that he drew and asked me whether I thought it was abstract.

On the back was a poem.  His smile indicated that he had enjoyed the moment, as did I.

He is always teaching me new things.

His abstract art is above.  Here is his poem.

On his own, he is busy writing a long story, and I am looking forward to reading it.  

Abstract Thought

I don't know what this is.
But it seems right to me.
It expresses my inner thoughts, I guess.
But since I don't know what it is,
The meaning of it is elusive.
It seems to set a direction, then moves on.
Much like my life.
Is that what it is?
Each twist and turn leaves a larger decision, a
footprint of sorts.