Pine needles spread across the mustard sky,
I wonder if I will heal and stay alive?
There is a brook, pebbles, slabs of rock,
stepping stones to the next right step.
Who can know the next right step,
mossy, slippery, shimmering, wet?
Revel in the pale mustard beauty of the sky
whispering her secrets.
***
A home is a precious thing, so is a friend,
so is a person with whom you share life.
Try to show your love in little ways,
peel an orange and separate the segments.
Draw up the juice onto your lips,
give away a sliver.
Drink the green tea of love,
eat the prunes of compassion.
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