If you ever lose heart and the earth seems as distant as stars fading into the noise of your busy mind, know this. That a tiny island exists in the blue hands of the ocean. That a tree grows upright into the salted clouds. That two eagles love each other enough to spend their lives greeting the morning sun together. That two eaglets stand in their nest, gazing at the heavens. Looking down to the forever ground. They eat and sleep and flap their wings. And one day in July, one by one, they will jump into the air. They will know the difference between existing and what is beyond. They will hold onto nothing. The hurricane will come, courage catching their pinions on fire, as they mount the wind, climbing ladders into realms of the invisible.


--T.L. Stokes






Wednesday, June 23, 2010

the day is like a book

Two strips of brown earth
in raised beds capture the sun
like soup for baby green heads
and lettuce,
fence posts,
ants in the grass,

where I dig a hole
for the new tomato plant.

She opened a few yellow bright
eyes to look around this morning.
Stretching those crooked arms
and gazing sideways.

I walked barefoot along the cement path.
The birds line up in all the trees
to enliven the leaves, notes
falling down with the green.

So many colors of green.

Ebony and Kona wait for their walk,
I hear them shuffling and tapping
their feet. A mouse makes a small
clicking noise in the nightie drawer.

The day is like a book. I set it down,
I pick it up. Turning one page, the
yellow sun has drained into gray-white
linen.

The dogs are quiet. The mouse is gone.






for the farm in all her glory
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