Not That You Need My Approval

Rise up wild daughter of the woods

dance and romp

struggle and scream

kick and punch.

Persist. Resist. Insist. Consist

of and within your

own sweet and glorious dragon Self.

Kick at the stones and

split the sky into

one thousand shards of color

bellow in rage

fight

spin

sing.

Or don't.

Just rest and relax or do

whatever

it is your own unchained soul wants.

It IS your life. Live it by your rules.

This poet stands with you and your choices.

At a Possum Pace

If I could have a job that required long slow walks

through the woods,

I think I would take it.

Brisk, heelstomping, leafcrunching hikes

can be enjoyable,

but the Slow Walks are what allow me

to see what could be.

Soon I hear a fluttering just above me

and I stop again,

and thrill to my first sighting this spring

of a red-headed woodpecker

with his flashy formal black and white attire

standing in bold contrast to his brilliant

scarlet scalp.

I pause like a tree and listen and watch,

and then I move on,

but only at a

possum pace.

Shaft-Glory

Is there a word

for a shaft of golden sunlight

filtering its way through

a forest canopy,

through a million new leaves

and old trees

and finding 

somehow

a single wildflower to 

set aglow?

There should be.