Roll in, roll out, 
change masks, roll in again --
infinite faces --
each time I fail to guess
who you will be next

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.