Morning flow -

 The oddest thing - I cut and paste from my journal and both poems are in the same font size, but they come here in different sizes, and they are determined not to change, so one is smaller print than the other.  What does that say?  I haven't a clue, and today, no clues are great for me. 

                            Bumblebee Lives

        Where do bumblebees go when  it rains?

The rain continues,  and I wonder where bumblebees

                                                            reside.

            Do they cluster like thought in my brain,

                                                                        humming?

                        Is that how is it for bees in their hive,

                                                a soft, warm buzz,

                                    an easy tumble to praise the rays of sun,

                                                        a suggestion
                                                                to light.

                                                            "Prepare the pollen."

                                                            "Groom each grain  for flight."

The Tidal Rub - The Gift of Life

the rain is softer now

less a pounding wake-up call

more a “Do you need anything,  a drink perhaps,

a cup of water to steep with tea?”

I feel the heft of the roof on the house,  the hat on my head.

My life is enough,

the touch of water, fire, earth,  air,

the tidal bounce,

of the elements,

framed, unframed,
bound, unbound -

                    Emergence,

                                    undefine,
                                         in me.