Take Two, They're Small

You're right, I missed yesterday.  The muse came and left
when she saw I was busy-busy...but it was a good day to have,
for which I am glad, and I hope to write two short poems,
perhaps prose poems, today...The first is inspired by the
juxtaposition of today's Godpause from Luther Seminary, and
the view from our kitchen window.

A Muse

Mr. Mallard treads gently
checking out a clearing
in the clump of birch
behind our house.  A squirrel
runs after him, perhaps
chattering that
a nearby remnant of snow
is just that, not a pond.

Mr. Mallard moves on,
unperturbed.  I wonder
whether Mrs. Mallard
is nearby, if she watches
with that uncertainty
mixed with hope
which you and I might call faith.
Increase, dear Lord, my faith.

And the second is no more than a 'beater,' I fear, compared
to thoughts I'd wished to express...but that should still be ok,
a poem a day can leave room for improvement...we'll put it
out there, for the sake of the discipline of the month!

Last Words

First word I want to hear on that day is 'rise.'
Rise, like sun, newborn, on a summer morn.
Rise, like shoots of green where cold snow has been.
And the second word I hope to hear is 'shine.'
Shine, like children, dressed in their Sunday best.
Shine, like a small, but warm, bright candle in a storm.
Shine until the penultimate word.  That would be 'grace.'
From then on, there's just one word:  'glory.'
And it goes on forever.  Glory, glory, glory, glory,
glory, glory, glory.......