Awakened too early on Saturday morning by the song of a mockingbird imitating my clock radio alarm. * Walking along the green path with buds in my ears, too engrossed in the morning news to listen to the stillness of the garden.
From Tanka Diary
The botanical garden is just as I remember,
although it is certain that everything
has changed since my last visit.
How many hilarious questions these fuzzy
fiddleheads are inquiring of spring
will be answered as green ferns unfurl?
Walking the path, I stop to pick up
bleached bark from a tree, curled into
a scroll of ancient wisdom I am unable to read.
Even in my dreams I’m hiking
these mountain trails expecting to find a rock
that nature has shaped to remind me of a heart.