Fertile heart
tendered with
wonderment,
test the moist
grounds of Truth
where Divine Reality
takes root.

Fertile heart
tendered with
wonderment,
test the moist
grounds of Truth
where Divine Reality
takes root.

Fallen leaves carpet my path.
Caution, sharp curves ahead.
Tree limbs lock bare arms;
Distant ridges rise in view.
Blessed be the pause.
Placing my hands on
Sun-warmed outcropping,
I take in the strength
Of ancient mountains
Eroded over time.
Blessed be the wise.
At the peak of an arduous climb
I lean against the rugged bark
of an old growth tree, its
knotted wounds long healed.
Blessed be time.
Standing under an arch
of Coniferous Evergreens,
I sight the late-blooming ferns,
Signs, promises, Presence.
Winds shush the moment,
Blessed be peace.

A single red maple leaf
Spinning, swirling
Catching attention,
Stirring anticipation,
Beauty without scarcity
‘til limbs stretch, bared.
Losing what we love
We may fail to see
How empty spaces
Open hidden horizons,
Season’s reassurance.
We walk on fallow paths
Seeded with possibilities.

sun slipping
through forest green,
creek sliding
over ancient stones,
cicadas clicking
in mid-afternoon,
tree frogs singing
as day falls
into darkness;
flickering flames
of campfire,
hum of human voices
settling in for the night,
full August moon
moving through treetops..
Silence infuses my soul
without a single word.

Montreat
about this passing moment,
if only I could…
A canopy of green leans in to listen;
cicadas smothered in summer’s heat
keep up soft rhythmic clicks;
raucous crows never cease
proclaiming this their domain,
mockingbirds rasp with protest
when not boasting about their charm.
2:00pm, I sit on my rocking chair
front porch with a cup of green jasmine
tea, a square of chocolate and a good
read, like Shipstead’s “Great Circle”.
Raven makes its circular
flight without a sound
So close, so expansive.

Mid-morning notes,
a treetop preacher
hooked beak, dark robe,
speckled vest calls
“Listen up, Listen up.”
Puffed up virtuoso exhorts:
make the best of the beak
you’ve been given; keep
a close eye on your turf,
skip often, don’t waste time
unless a song bubbles up.

All About Birds CornellLab
Look,
Look again.
Violet emerges
Petals folded
Newborn hatchling
Barely there.
Look,
Look Again.
Delicate wings
Open to reveal
Petals taking
Flight,
Spreading Joy.


Note: months since my word space felt the stirring to share;
and then there is a moment I desire to shout out;
words I know have a power
Winter words buried in silence,
Spring stirring inner reflections
evokes a shared exclamation.
This morning thunder clapped,
lightning appeared before
dawn skies arrived.
I heard the dogwoods sigh
as a downpour of rain
quenched their thirst
Muggy noontime, sun awakens
Hanging pots of fuchsia,
waiting for hungering hummingbirds,
An unexpected invitation
To stop and see – what beauty
transforms in any given moment.
A portal opens, delights emerge,
Prompting my spirit to
Take in the good,
Revel in the moment of
joy awakening.
Say aloud
Here, hear,
Words to share
I want to lift you too.

Catching the shimmering glimmering
sparkle through the kitchen window,
I accept an invitation to come and see.
Moving through the rain drop jewels
scattered on the green clover lawn
I think, yes, this is good.
A touch of wonderment, a moment’s
release from the day’s difficult whatevers.
I seek the source of the morning gleam.
In new shoots of the kousa dogwood
cupped leaves hold droplets of water
dancing in the rays of a generous sun.
Just yesterday I wanted to recall
the taste of joy. What return
can I make for such goodness?
Gratitude that evokes attention,
Awareness; care, concern;
regard for the ongoing relationship.

Mimic
Imitator
Fierce protector of home
Sharply demands that visitors
Move on.
But wait,
King of Songbirds,
My porch, my cedar tree, your nest,
I am willing to share my space,
And you?
Grey Bird
White banded wings
Tail upright, eye-to-eye
Insists this space is his domain,
Move on.
From pole
He announces
To all who will listen
Intruder alert, stay away,
Take flight,
Listen
Clearly I say
Let’s be friends, not foes,
He stands his ground, going nowhere
That’s that.
Mocking Bird Chat in Cinquains
Take a look at Crapsey’s Cinquains
http://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/621-crapsey-cinquain-and-some-of-its-variations/
