Your swells crash against the metal hull
I sit behind glass a good 30 feet above your surface
Yet the spray you spit as you crash
Causes white out visibility at my window
I wonder, what angered you
Where did your peaceful, serene blue go to?
You rant and rave
Seemingly pulling power up from 3,000 feet below
Your surface raises into mountains of deepest gray
Growing higher and higher
Until the rounded tops crest and roll forward
With furies of foam rushing forward.
Is it anger or merely strength
That pierces my being
Igniting fear
Is power always something to be feared?
The raging waters speak to me of violence
With their endless pounding, crashing and exploding
Spraying onto verandahs decks above.
Yet, when your fury meets resistance
There are glimmers of beautiful blue
Peaking out amid the foam and spray
Your surface is a sea of chaos
But deep within you
There exist delicate creatures
Swimming undisturbed
So, ocean, who then are you?
A furious power attempting to eject all on your surface
A gentle, nurturing home
Or, maybe, merely a living body
Existing as best able
Responding to atmospheric circumstances
With no intent for harm?
We, after all, are merely guests
So, though your lunging and mountainous rolls
Play with my heart, disturb my equilibrium
And destroy my peace
I must remember
I am a guest
My job is to learn to roll with you
Not to question your inherent nature.
"Take your time"
Such kind words
To speak to a harried postal clerk
Facing a line out the door
They give at least a brief reprieve
From complaints
A moment to breathe
Take your time
TAKE it
Do not throw it away
Into the waste basket of frustration and impatience
Sitting in line at the bank drive thru
The words came back to me
This is time
It is my time
Taking it would mean savoring, treasuring this time
I opened my eyes to see the world
The barren trees dripping glistening droplets
The grey sky with just a hint of blue
The wreath hanging festively on the nearby residence
Joy crept its way into my heart
Beauty enveloped my soul
Before I knew it, it was my turn
I smiled sincerely as I greeted the teller
I had taken my time
She apologized for the wait
No problem, Truly No problem!
As the calendar turns the page, may we all Take Our Time!
Happy New Year!
As I look out over the autumn garden
Sadness clings to me
Like the petals of the fading marigolds
Time for bed
Life cannot go on without rest
I whisper my thanks
As I place a layer of mulched leaves
Giving cover to the tired soil
I give thanks for our summer mornings together
Me observing the growth
Helping in any way possible
Removing dead leaves,
Picking off dangerous insects
Awed by the mystery
Witnessing seedling, once seed, take root and flourish
Soil offering all it has,
Rain giving sustenance.
Me, supplementing when needed
Thankful for clean water
And my dad’s hose.
But today,
The freezer is stocked
The Ball jars filled and sealed
And the last of the tomatoes
Are ripening on their tray
As the woodstove takes away
The autumn chill
Water will not restore health
Soil cannot nurture the dying plants
The season has ended.
With gratitude for all the meals,
All the joy
I whisper my thanks to the garden
As I bid it adieu and good night!
I admire trees
The manner in which they bend
As winds howl through
And what once seemed immobile
Sways like a dancer
Moving to and fro with grace
In choreographed precision
With the forest of partners
In its company
I admire trees
The way they stand proudly
Naked, grey, their true winter selves
Reaching for the sky
Ready to bend without notice
Housing insects and birds
Giving homes for free
Arms always reaching out
Open and inviting
I admire trees
Drinking deeply
Through their anchored roots
Sending messages within the ground
They survive
Even thrive
And offer gifts
Their fruits nourishing the world
Their shade given in the summer’s heat
Their toes holding earth
Keeping erosion at bay
Their sap sweetening life
I admire trees
Evergreens, oaks, birch, maple, elm, and beech
The list goes on
They live together
Harmoniously
Creating forest abode
For creatures of the land and sky
They drop their leaves at season’s end
Nurturing soil beneath
Without complaint
They pass through the seasons
Death, Rebirth, Creative Life, Waning Days
The cycle repeats
As apparent death holds life within
I admire trees
They teach me to trust
There is more to life
Than my eyes behold.
Sitting on cool granite
Sun streaming warmth upon me
Capturing an image of a stalwart baby pine
Relishing the peace
The beauty
The generous gifts of nature
I drink deeply of healing mountain air
Startled then
Panting
Rapid panting
A warm body pressed against my back
Wetness now on the back of my arm
Twisting my neck
Only to see a snout,
Brindle coat wrapped tightly
Encasing protruding ribs
She was not seeking attention in the way of other dogs
But neither was she acting aggressively
She just kept returning
Seemingly wanting proximity
Remaining nearby
A black lab joined her
Antennae attached to a collar
Hip bones visible through midnight coat
Panting
Asking for what?
Petting seems foreign to them both
Neither good nor bad
Not insisting upon nor rejecting
They remain nearby
The lab choosing to squeeze between my friend’s chair and mine
Again, and again.
Choosing confined space
Over the open acres surrounding us on this mountain
Eventually she responds to touch
Leaning in, asking for more
Shyly though
Garmin collars banded around their necks
Working dogs
Digging into wet soil
Seeking refreshment
A truck barrels up the mountain road
Our companions respond to a whistle
Back to work
Be safe my new friends
Be safe
Shattered Silence
Saddened Soul
Did they feel love?
If only for a moment
Did they know love?
Hey, little pine tree!
Growing here upon this granite outcropping
Stretching up toward the sun
Surviving the wind
Thriving despite imperfect soil
A beautiful display
Of luscious green
Bending gently with the wind
Your branches speak of strength
Sturdiness and resilience
Hey little pine tree!
What lessons might I learn
If I but pay attention?
Crumbs for the Journey 