Lazy

Let’s not call ourselves lazy,

as the wind plays the chimes

and ushers cherry blossom petals,

not unkindly, along,

as needle fall, from douglas fir,

makes its dry ptick against the wooden bench

Let’s not call ourselves lazy

to be lifted thus, by sun and scented breeze,

to notice the pace of insects,

to be in dialog with what will grow,

in gentle give and take

with what the garden offers

Indeed, it is not lazy

to honor the pace

of our breath, our days,

to take time to listen,

and know to offer

only what, right here, right now

can be received

These tendrils we develop,

these tender patterns we pioneer,

will prove essential

as our sights clear.

©Wendy Mulhern

April 14, 2016