Short Mustards Poems

quintessence of fall
her mustards and tangerines
multicolored leaves

her trees turning black
pumpkins smile at harvest moon
crow glides in on wind

october sunset
her broken yellow corn stalks
thanksgiving coming...

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Nestled woodland, leaves on line,
   thick, straight, and curving.
Mounded upland, forms eternal,
   Rounded, angled, and yielding.

Circled valley, meadows, fields,
   shapes, and pathways winding.
Seasons quartered, warm and cool,
   rust and mustards flying.

Upward outward, textured daybreak,
   quiet breezes low:
Close encounter, canvas earth,
   to view, to feel, to grow....

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The sunrays showered the treetops
pooling little puddles of light
on the predominance of shade
that claimed the beaten path below;
seemingly ebbing and flowing
caused by the rustle of the trees.
Tiny cabbage white butterflies
in their spiral flights dip and rise
ostentatiously frolicking
amidst the warm illuminates
occasionally alighting
the myriad garlic mustards
that dominate the ground layer
laying their next generation....

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Walking on this green grassy path
In the far spread fields of flowery mustards
Provides a priceless relief to my oh! Tired soul;
Better than the meditating monks feel 
In solitude, in the stupas on the Himalayan hilltops;
Where light winds blow continual, 
And duck-birds dive in and dance.
And it at first saddens a bit, later making me smile,
When I find it, at places, often,
How my old innocent farmer neighbor
Has secretly budged the stony boundary marks....

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