Paradox

I shy away from the whetstone of trials
and draw back from sandpaper woes
Yet ease rarely sharpens or shapes me
Perhaps these are friends more than foes.

But how should I face such companions
who seem to inflict only pain
It seems such an odd contradiction
That trials are really my gain.

Tahoe morning

Sunlight bursting upon the glassy lake

   Green grass rising through the melting snow

       Buds forming on the smallest of trees

          Birdsong filling the air

              My heart in tune with the morning.