Another Day of Stones and Spirals

In the studio, 

still journeying with spirals, 

circles and 

stones.

Thoughts of tree rings

and raked gravel in a Zen garden.

Crop circles, 

labyrinths, 

and, 

as 

Pamela suggested, 

finger prints. 

Maybe I'll mount this one on wood....

Piles and piles on my table. 

Some I like, 

some will 

not survive 

the harvest. 

Different papers do different things. 

I think I've found my favorite. 

Re-arranged a shelf of inspiration, 

after a visit to 

my parents' house. 

Yet more 

treasures 

they are passing on 

in preparation  

to move far away....

Dad found a collection 

of my most precious stones

 from a secret pebble 

beach in Greece. 

Washed and tumbled 

by turquoise water, 

rolled back and forth. 

I can feel them moving under me.

Memories flood back when I feel the 

smooth skin of polished stones - 

Sea-filled caves with blue-green

prisms of light, slight taste of salt, 

watermelon, 

warm tomatoes, 

and fetta.  

I remember most of the  stones quite well, 

though I have not seen them in 

many years. 

Stones in the garden, 

carried from near and far, 

where a 

salamander 

contemplates the 

Buddha. 

Golden hues 

of late summer 

grace the forest clearing, 

Small white skinny-winged moths 

soak in the warm sun, 

and large, black crickets 

scramble about when I move 

a pot here and there.