Napa Valley – May 2013 – beautiful days
Category Archives: Nature
Where Were You?
a poet’s epitaph to his muse
Where were you when silence fell
across the vale of season’s sunlit spring,
as hush of thrush was heard no more,
no life left burgeoning?
Where were you when “timeless” caught
its final thought to treasure and to hold,
and stood the wood in echoed ring,
still and haunting, cold?
Where were you when seaside crash
returned its thrash to waves left in the calm,
as foam and loam receded, quiet,
reducing shore to balm?
Where were you when down this path
my foot stepped lath was left to aging dust,
as rhyme and time reclaimed from me
and laid my words to trust?
Where were you when final breath
drawn just at death, was given back to earth,
released in peace to wander home,
rejoicing in new birth?
Where were you? There by my side
and could not hide as sorrow came to you.
My love, above this moment know
that I will always love you!
Where were you when Palm of love
returned His dove to grace your window sill?
With me! With me! And longing heart
for I am with you still!
Filed under Nature, Poetry, True Love, Uncategorized, Universal Soul
Easter Sunday
Soil relenting, spring’s first push,
burgeoning life surrounds this stand;
fitful witness to unfolding green,
each changing moment through my hand.
Hushed, the stance about me,
glorious roar the woods return;
blackbird, jay, and chickadee chorus,
flit in sweeps of dive and turn.
Budding green in willow’s locks
thankfully stretch to forest floor;
squirrels prattle and build such nests
of hand hewn boughs and fancy doors.
I, caught in granite repose,
dare neither a nerve nor twitch of eye;
allowed to simply be within,
enwrapped in spring from earth to sky!
Filed under Nature, Perpective, Poetry
Iron Bridge
Studded stark and juxtaposed to nature’s feint surroundings –
Rusted red through overthrows of paint’s defense and season’s houndings –
Frame on frame, let math be done! Infinitum so resolved,
echoes man in progress steeped until all progress has dissolved –
Yet bridge, it may, from here to there, cross time or distance or conquest’s gap,
it echoes pure impurity! Steadfast and placed in nature’s lap,
whose lowering sun and softened rays bathe the structure whimsical,
pronounces lines Pythagoras’ ways, distorts to art the physical!
That now, in golden sun, this path resolves in mystery
across a labyrinth web of light, may unfold my very history –
Here stretched to infinitum –
Here begged by sun, do angles lie –
Each step dissolves a minimum,
which I transcend through, by and by…
‘Tis but a bridge…
… and just the sun …
…
Yet moments mixed in witness there pull seams where I, and both, do run…
Filed under Nature, Perpective, Photography, Poetry
The Great Mystery
Histories’ pages beckon me, in all I read and understand,
to know each moment’s deep beliefs, to feel the ache in my own hand.
What prayers in tongues were cast at dawn while facing glorious east?
What sad laments were sung in chant to forge a sweet release?
What were the wishes cast to nature’s God at passing dusk?
What sacred moments bound in love were passed to generations’ trust?
I long to know, to feel it real, in every moment each waking day.
So I grasp from histories’ pages everything that I can take away.
Sacred land, sacred earth, giving sky, paternal history –
Balanced life through every breath, thankful to the Great Mystery.
January
Silent sun in winter’s cold draws hard the crystal white,
refines the edge of focus there, defines a sharper edge to light.
Every step and trace recorded through imprint left in powdered art
so calls the silence in subtle crunch, yet echoes short within the heart
of such a winter’s day.
Every frozen crystal, as if by God so gently placed.
Every dew drop manifest to kindly cling and paint the face
of all I see around me.
Yet every moment held in peace against the winter azure sky,
every temporal piece of life, about its day with a “why” –
So crisp this definition, in what I hold within this season’s frozen fold.
My deep appreciation so bathes my soul in nature’s heart,
leaves me lacking nothing, but knowing this, I am a part
and here I do belong.
Filed under Nature, Photography, Poetry
Melancholy Season
Melancholy reigns this season in,
twixt giving thanks and old year’s end –
oddly, why?
Quiet is the repose of piano echoing through my mind,
haunting hollow of chord resolved to single key left in time.
Fence posts along this lonely lane, silver stark in solitude,
grace the reaching dusty purpose of this road so lined in perpetude.
Strangely lush the season turns as snowfall drapes and smoothes the lines
that converge at road’s surreal horizon that holds the echoed key in time.
Hushed this world becomes, yet holds alive the echoed tune
that plays its chords across my mind and draws me deep into the wound
of season’s stoic standing here.
Silent snow in drifting, flits a gentle welcome within the woods,
so draws a gentle footstep where drift my thoughts to feel the good
of this season’s melancholy, dear.
Poignant keys regard these trees, echoed in my mind and soul,
and so fulfills my aching heart, relieves the winter’s cold.
Here in winter’s wood, between the dance of snow and hush,
the melancholy of this season enrobes my spirit, delivers trust
that tho’ the days reduce to shadows, it’s peace in whispers given here,
that I find solace between the thanks and old year’s end, so near.
There for weeks between, my memory and spirit stay
with echoed keys of one piano, dancing through the thoughts I play.
For it is this season’s purpose to pull my heart to nature’s deep,
grant my soul the love of God, whose whispers and kind heart I keep.
That is why –
25-Nov-2012
Heart’s Red Leaves
Red along the pond’s edge path,
reflections stolen, frozen fast
in glass, in trance against this sky –
Contrast white on blue –
Polished chrome, no stone
disturbs the water –
Heart’s blood leaves
in quaking, heave
a whispered drift to set a subtle wrinkle,
throws the blue on white to stand,
calls me, takes my hand
as golden drops in feathered flight
alight.
All sight is here and for, around me.
Echo still the silent rill
by will of hills
so scaped to cut the knee high grass –
tumble silent to pond below
slow, and show the truth of what I know.
This moment’s gate surrounds me.
I unleashed in metaphor
imbibe in tide of temporal flux,
the crux of just what is,
or gone.
Alone or one, unknown.
Yet summed in seconds dreamed,
redeemed in holy solitude.
The sky, the wood,
where heart’s leaves stood
to dance and so entrance me.
Dream be mine, of life or death,
and yet I can’t recall
how tall I stand or stall
on feet to greet unworldly wonder –
Soft thunder welcomes aging ties,
belies the moments temporal –
leaves a hold,
draws warmth from cold.
Heart and blood so vernal,
autumnal, eternal –
In quiet grace, I face this whole,
my soul embraced, my heart’s blood full.
Herein peace be mine –
of what I am,
what I’ve been through,
eternal blocks of time –
all of me, this rhyme.
Filed under Nature, Photography, Poetry
Wyoming Winter Approaching
Milk white sky, foreboding black
looms low, such clouds near mountains rise,
at valley’s edge, these jagged giants
relent to being swallowed whole,
by winter’s snowbound skies.
Where from my lonely perch
atop this valley island mesa,
feel winter’s bite upon the wind,
as errant snowflake passes,
and gives rise to thoughts
of silent nights near fire, hearth and love,
while deep in winter’s thick of it,
snows rage on howls above.
Yet, first courting, this approaching kiss,
of winter’s sweet relenting,
that softly draws a blanket
o’er these sage brush plains, contending
the season’s silent change…
I, in deliberate witness, thus,
watch storm roll out with stealth and hush,
so befriend the valley whiter,
there beckon winds an edge to carry,
in frozen kiss, approach the wary
life that stirs before her…
As the gale blusters forth
and silence holds the white approaching,
my dog and I turn from the north,
descend toward home, with nature’s coaching,
painting winter on its way…
Faithful Follower
Homer
he is my dog, my best friend true…
In leaps and bounds twixt autumn’s grasses,
his honesty and love shows through!
At pond’s edge reeds he steps and nuzzles,
looking for a scent to chase,
then up again with tail a waggin’
brings life’s true smile upon my face.
He waits beside me, never falters,
while fingers write and smoke drifts on…
My faithful follower, my true companion,
he brings the harmony to this October song.
And now that cigar is burning fingers,
I’ll turn to him with anxious eyes,
“where now” his thoughtful smile will answer,
towards home we’ll walk, ‘neath autumn’s sky.
Filed under Family, Nature, Photography, Poetry
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