Sometimes it is necessary
to lie on your back
upon the face of the earth
and look up at the sky.
There might be clouds
or there might not.
There might be a bird
or a whole flock of birds
or there might not.
What is important is looking up.
Today I watched wisps of cirrus clouds moving fast
across a field of ultramarine blue
framed all around by the tops of trees:
a pine, sighing in the breeze
the cone shapes of cedars and firs
bare branches of oaks in the spaces between.
All winter long I have lain on my back
and watched the trees move against the sky,
wanting to know what they were writing there.
Today there were leaf buds on the oaks.
(March 2016)