Life seems paused, in a bit of a hold
Some things shifting to new from the old
Thinking and waiting, anticipating
Little changes, but nothing too bold
Daily temps rise to early-spring warm
We’ve survived the first seasonal storm
The horses, they nibble
On the sprouting green kibble
We all dream of the future new norm
Summer birds have begun to arrive
They roost and they sing, soar and dive
Wrens swipe bluebird houses
And hawks drop dead mouses
And the concerts start promptly at five
Some more free time means now I can go
Spend more time with Chicago and Moe
We can walk through the trails
Brush their manes and their tails
Feel the peace, take our time, nice and slow
In the barn Fennel’s still our sole cat
He hunts, but it sadly seems that
The rodents look yummy
But they upset his tummy
So he pukes on the barn aisle mat
I finally got off of my duff
Started taking some classes with Ruff
He gets scared in strange places
But in most of the cases
Settles down once he’s been there enough
On the job Rowdy seems a bit tired
Not suggesting he needs to be fired
But the time may be near
That Ruff conquers his fear
Is ready to work, and gets hired
To be sure, it’s a season for change
Fluctuation that feels a bit strange
But I’ll try to stay quiet
Be hard but I’ll try it
Not to push or to force or arrange
No plotting or planning or mappin’
No pressure, but maybe some nappin’
Try to go with the flow
To really let go
To be open to all that might happen
From Four Sticks Farm 