Tag: Nature

Enough

At the break of day
came a silent
hymn of hope
A glimmer
A shimmering sliver
of soft morning sun
trickling through
the cedar boughs
tumbling
gently
onto earth’s
upturned
face still
covered with
snow and though
a small thing
It was enough

Impending Assault

Tiny snowflakes
twisting trickling
spiraling
feeling their way
down
through the
thick air
advance scouts
mapping the ground
for the shock troops
massing high in the gray
Soon they will be
unleashed
unstoppable
unconcerned
they will fall upon
and smother the earth

Tuesday Morning

The willow oak is
still holding many
dead leaves
A grieving mother
unwilling
to release
from her clutches
those lost children
whose winter has come
and in the background
Ustad Vilayat Khan’s
Raag Bhairavi alap
sings from his sitar
and I hear her tears
in each sweet meend

 

No Prediction

I saw a wooly worm today
Not the correct term
but that’s what they were
growing up
You know the ones
Orange and black
and the color
of their back
is some exact
portend of
the coming winter
He was mostly orange
Heading east
at least for a moment
then screeched to a halt
and turned north
Was he going back
for his overcoat?
He didn’t say
It’s better that way –
not knowing what may come

Funeral Director

The wind came today not at all pleasantly
but swirling and cold I’m told with
coffee in hand standing inside
it appeared funereal and efficient
Nature’s mortician rearranging the
dead arms of departed bitternut hickories

Cold Clutch

The cedars are drunk
from too much ice
Swaying heavily like
a hopeless lush striving
courageously to remain
between the
sidewalk’s edges
they both
eventually
will begin to weep
releasing their frozen heart’s
burdens to return to the earth

The Sun Also Sets

The sun is setting
and I let him go

Freely I released him

No tearful plea to grant
more day     I understand
He must stay on track
for his scheduled
appearance just back
of that mountain yonder
where farmers and
soldiers and
school bus drivers
in far away places
will lift their heads
from their restless beds
at the first glimpse of his
bright shining face and
here

above me
the moon will nudge
the slumbering stars
and proclaim
their time
to shine

Winter’s Child

How I love the cold air
as it caresses the bare
limbs of November’s
dormant arms
amid the caws
of distant
crows carried
carefully through
the bright crisp
rays of the brave
winter sun
unfazed
by the
shortening
of its days
The spirits
are nearer
The veil
is thin
My path ahead
is clear again