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