a gift from a bluejay

I looked out of my kitchen window this morning and saw the prettiest bit of lace - it almost looked like a veil. Snow had fallen and settled in the bottom of the fence-diamonds. I've never seen this before - usually, the snow catches in the tree branches and it's fairly bare below. I watched for a moment, expecting it to blow away. The air must have been perfectly still, because it didn't go anywhere.

Suddenly, I noticed a little bit of snow falling down and landing - so softly - on the gem-shaped snow that was already nestled in the fence, making it the tiniest bit larger. There, up in the tree, hopping happily amidst the laden branches, a bluejay, unconsciously causing all this loveliness.

I have human bluejays in my life. They unconsciously causes loveliness too, just hopping about being themselves.

Thanks, bluejays 💙

A poem for the night sky

The glory and the wonder

And the wonder and the glory 

Of a dark sky shot with stars 

Of a dark sky shot with stars 

And the frigid air goes in

And your steaming breath comes out

And the cold air chills your skin

As you stare at burning suns 

In the cold and quiet night

When all is dark and all is bright 

Is that star a silent light?

Or does she roar, or sing, or fight?

If some creature made of firmer stuff than we

Lived on a star, they'd never see

Us, they'd never know we're here

Because for them it's never dark.

But perhaps around that distant raging sun

There spins a bit of dust, like earth 

And perhaps they wish upon our sun 

When she appears in the glory of their night sky.

And the emptiness of space 

Could be filled with hopes and wishes, back and forth

An enormous canyon of longing and glory

And wonder, and wonder and glory.

Raise your hand if you used to get in trouble for reading during class

I've read

In my bed

On my couch

In a car

I've parked under trees 

On a lookout near the sea

I've read while on a walk 

While other people try to talk 

I've read on the train

On the toilet

In the rain

I've read 

In the dark, using headlights,

In the park

On the roof 

By a dam

Hiding books beneath my hands

During recess,

During math,

In the shower

In the bath

I've read through the night

Parked beneath a street light

I've read 

Hanging my head 

Backwards off the side of my bed 

I've spent ages

Holding pages