Poems From The Porch
The spiders were crafting spectacular orbs to decorate the ground cover last night.
They must be resting now because nary a one is in sight.
Standing in the soft dew grass,
sweetness under my feet,
getting closer to observe,
I can see that their artistic offerings are intricately crafted weavings,
tapestries only visible in the morning dampness.
Several felines follow me to the art gallery of the spiders.
One of them sniffs at an orb and withdraws with a wet kiss on his nose.
Nearby is the giant century plant,
its protrusions like an alien species.
Sliding my finger upward along its arm,
water droplets appearing,
I suspect that the sensation is as caressing the skin of a crocodile,
but less bumpy.
The strength of this mighty centenarian is calming, reassuring.
My heart is so full of rejoicing for the gifts of this morning
that I am drawn to open Revelations of Divine Love by Julian of Norwich,
and forerunner of all female writers who compose in English.
The tenth revelation chooses itself as a love note written tenderly to me.
“Meditate on the endless love which was without beginning, is now and always shall be.”
And I look up to see how much the hummingbirds are enamored with their breakfast;
and how the grass is reaching in delight for the rays of the sun;
how the kitty siblings are expressing their affection in playful tussling;
and how the bright yellow ring in the pert fuschia flower
is a proud display of passion.
So I write these word kisses to you
and pray that they land softly on your open heart.
May the touch of them remind you that you are loved and lovable
and an ambassador distributing love smooches of your own.