Becoming Seed



Turning smooth seeds

over in my palm

bruised purple and mauve

kidney shaped patterns capture

my heart…

I recall that each embodies

the Mystery of Becoming –

through genetics, pattern and form.


I gently place

each seed in her pot

watering it well,

anticipating the green stem

that will split the air in two.


Within a week

a transformation,

as seed unfurls,

sprouts her stalk.

New emerald leaves

have startling raised veins

that gift us

with the air she breathes.

Because of her we live.


Vining up the gnarled trellis

She spirals her way to sky.

Heart shaped leaves

and bittersweet orange flowers

beckon to hummingbirds –

Sweet nectar is their treat.


After a spray of orange blooms

the tiny beans appear

like birds on a wire,

lined up

in a row.


When seed pods

begin to ripen

I watch for slender

emerald beans to lengthen

into wavy strings.

Plucking them

to eat

when young,

I always add a prayer.


Some ripening seeds

I leave

to grow plump,

and rounded –

bulging shapes

anticipate a cyclic

Fall Gathering…


As summer fades

seed cases become giants,

some a foot or more in length.

A dying sun, wind, cool nights,

toughen tanned and crackling pods

that rattle like gourds.

I cut them away from

withering vines,

now ten feet high.

Excitedly I open the first one

to greet next year’s gift,

purple and pink seeds!

Another circle closes.

Oh, the miracle of new life to come.

March Moons



Last night a Moonflower blossomed.

Hovering over bare branches

she rose quickly

into a pale blue sky.

Guilded in gold at twilight,

Moon turned iridescent,

pearl white by nightfall.


Will a month of double moons

bring high desert’s thirsty

trees, scrub, and grasses,

first spring flowers,

water they desperately need?


Do both hold Promise?

Or does one

cancel out the other?


Is the Hare hiding

behind his Grandmother

beckoning to the unwary?*


Or will winter buried toads

emerge to bask under

fragrant spring rain?


Beware an offer

of too much light

without shadows,

or reversals in Time.


Endings and beginnings

are always ambiguous.


March Light lengthens out our days.

Winter’s soft shadows fade

into cerulean blue –

a blazing white star

brings warmth, but all too soon

stares red earth down

cracking parched ground.


We can lose sight of ourselves

even as sprouting seeds unfurl,

reaching towards god’s eye.

At high noon no shadow is cast –

a dangerous time for

those who refuse to reflect

upon the necessity

of winter darkness.


This time of introspection

precedes a fierce

“Coming of the Light.”


At the equinox two halves

are wed as One.

A cautionary note

for those who would

cast away dark selves

to take wild flight

seduced by the fire

of the rising sun/son.


  • In many Native Indigenous traditions (as well as those from other countries) the Hare lives with his Grandmother the Moon. Hare is a trickster figure who is capable of reversals. He can turns the world upside down in seconds.

Blossoming Owl

I first met Sam at the Abiquiu Artist’s Tour a couple of years ago. At the time I was struck by the beauty and complexity of his images, especially the spirals he painted.

Since then, Sam and I have become good friends.

We have also discovered that we both think of owls as being personal guides.

Fortunately, I have been present while he has been painting “Owl Blossom” which for me has been very exciting.

Recently I wrote a piece for this blog on what I call “Deep Time” and last week while visiting Sam I realized that his paintings articulate better than I ever could with words, just what I mean by “Deep Time.”

Please visit Sam to see more extraordinary paintings at: