Hummingbird buzzes,
sprites about to poke bee balm,
releases grace
in the amplifying waves
it sets in motion

Bits of dust 
blown by salty air
into gaps
of a broken wall
sow a garden all their own

Shaking yourself off
from our long winter dullness,
you burst forward,
and reach out your arms to take
one, lazy, well-deserved yawn.

River cuts fissures
through prairie, piles up debris --
leaves ruins
that startle us, even Earth,
with their unfolding beauty.

Light filters through leaf
half on, half off the surface --
stained glass
shines over silent pond --
and blesses this place, this day.

Note: This image is from a walk in the woods during my first visit to the Abbey of Gethsemane, where Thomas Merton lived. I hope to be channeling a little bit of his spirit here. 

When buds open,
pedals unwind, split apart,
overlap --
remind us that we, too, bloom
distinct and yet intertwined.