He knows the number of hairs on my head, and
Of the bright stars, each with a name such as Fred

He knows the history of each grain of sand
The liters in the sea today were already planned

And He knows how many times I have had a crush
He knows every secret, and every blush

He understands everybody, down to each little thought
The griefs that they suffer, the wars that are fought

He records every laugh and the width of each smile
He knows all my steps, yes, every mile

You name a thing, God knows the amount
My biggest point--- God sure can count.
2010

On old world wings you've come
through ages gracing wilds
In gardens you hover, humming hawk moth
seemingly like a bird
On beating wings you sing to honeyed flower stalks
a proboscis long for drinking up
phlox and penstemon

The ruddy footworn path is wild and long,
Tracing down all of my woodland years,
Shorter in front, longer behind, fading song,
Was its form cut by me or the grazing deer?

A star exploded a million point six years ago
in a galaxy we've yet to know exists.
Today the energy
reached us.
And your smile was brighter
although you had no clue why.
But because of this,
I smiled too.
And a day that was dark and heavy--
pressure flattening us like
an unrelieved argument we didn't know
we were having
turned around.
The dark side was enveloped in light
and we loved, giggled about stupid stuff
no one but us could ever understand
and somewhere
deep inside that impossibly far away place
a new star shimmered into being.