maple tree haiku #1

something’s happening

dusting off rust of winter

ruddy red buds grow

Roger's world

my giant finger becomes part

of his small world

gripped tight by hand

miraculous

I look with my heart

at child asleep in my arms

worlds open up

where I grip possibilities

of links in a strand

   of knots tightly tied

      of light diffusing out

        of roots reaching down

          of wings catching wind

            of waves washing sand

              of eyes meeting eyes

my finger gripped still

just below cheek

just below cheek

and beside nose

skin like moon

almost translucent

glowing from within

soft tender light

singing song of grace

touches my lips

and I smile knowing

sweet bells have rung

twitching my ears

in their direction

soft soft peels of

new life