It sounds
Like a freight train
Rumbling down the steel rails
Crossing the country
I hear the ramping up
And the whispering wane
As the wind
Traverses the woods
The trees,
Over a hundred feet tall
Sway
Back, forth
Left, right
Circling
Each to their own music
They arch and spiral
With the wind
Not fighting it
Just playfully waving
It is curious.
They are all confined
Within the same atmospheric conditions
The gusts travel throughout
But the trees
Maples, aspens, oaks, evergreens and more
are unique in their response
There is no chorus line
No limbs kicking in unison
It is a bit of a cacophony
Of movement
Each tree
Feeling its own rhythm
As it experiences the wind
From its own angle
With its own natural resistance
Its own number of rings
Calling out its age and robustness
Branches leap and lunge with grace
Tree trunks lean and recover
The power of the wind
is heard and seen
in the dance of the trees
They reside shoulder to shoulder
Grounded deeply in the earth
Roots reaching out
Likely intertwined
In the subterranean world
Providing solid foundation
Allowing the trees
To bow to nature
With resilience
The pillars of the forest
Swipe against each other again and again
As they move
Like handheld fans
On a hot summer day.
A snag
A standing dead or dying tree
Also called a wildlife tree
May succumb to the power of the wind.
The mystery resides
In the survival
Of the healthy, closely clustered
Woody organisms of the woods
Retaining their individuality
They move freely
Branches collide
With grace
And accommodation
As they dance in the wind.
Let us humans
Listen to the lessons
Of the trees
As they dance in the winds of change.
Patricia O’Connor
2024
Friction Creates Strength
From the silver bun
Atop her dainty, thoughtful face
To her rhythmic feet
Dancing as one
On the spinning wheel pedal
She enters into the work of creation
She plants seeds of tomorrow
As she tends to sheep
Grazing in the meadow
Others shear them for her
Under her watchful eye, I imagine
Raw, washed wool
Fills her basket now
Lying in bunches
It looks like matted clumps of cotton
Greyish white
With flecks of black
From the hay in the meadow
The dirt of the soil
She pulls off a piece
So light, airy, and soft
She cards it
Almost a caress with two brushes
Working the individual fine strands
Until they lie parallel to each other
She pulls off some for me to touch
I cannot help but stroke fibers
There is no itch
No irritation
It looks like a cirrus cloud
Delicate and wispy.
She lines up the carded wool
Holds some tension on the gathered strands
As the spinning wheel
Powered by the choreographed movement
of her feet
On the treadle
Creates its own music and magic
The bobbin pulls the fibers forward
Twisting, twisting as it goes
The fibers are joined now in a strand
Friction has created strength
No longer individual filaments
But retaining the crimp of their natural state
They twirl together uniting
To create the gift of yarn
A gift of warmth, beauty, and love.
Hope Springs Once Again!
Oh, how it gladdens my heart
To discover the green shoots
Broken through the winter earth!
Each year, I am surprised
When the snow nearest the foundation of my home
Melts away
And reveals, yet again
New Life!
The new growth emerges
From bulbs planted in prior years
Once seeming dead
Now flourishing with hope
As they radiate the promise of beauty to come.
My heart flutters
Like the wings of butterflies beating within my chest
I cannot help but smile
The sun pouring its warmth
Upon my face
Upon this new life
As it melts away winter’s remains
Take courage
Winter comes
The dark, cold days
May lay heavily upon us
And may reappear before they are gone
But always, always
Spring follows
Let go of winter’s chill
Allow abundance to nurture your spirit
As spring’s resurrection peaks out
Through the frozen earth.
Awakening the Divine
It has been said
That love alone can awaken the divine within
Well, I am in love
With a burrowing owl!
Each day, I am pulled
My heart strings tug wildly
Calling me to walk down to the burrows
I am delighted when I spot the owl
His squat, feathered body tucked amongst the grass.
He sits just atop his burrow
There are particles of sand on his face
But still, he wears his chestnut and white feathers
As he stands bravely out of his safe home
Like Joseph wears his coat of many colors
I approach quietly
Creeping slowly forward
Like children returning from recess
But I am going toward excitement
Forcing myself to hold back so as not to frighten
He and I exchange glances
I speak quietly and, I hope, reassuringly
He allows me to remain
He remains
I ease myself onto the grass
Camera in hand.
Joyfully, I observe his actions
Always alert, on guard
But when he feels safe
He will look into my eyes
And I pretend he loves me, too!
His eyes register myriad emotions
Curiosity, alarm, disgust, pleasure, wisdom
And more which I cannot read
A couple of women come jaunting up
No kind words, no gradual entrance
The owl’s face registers alarm
He squawks
They continue forward
He rattles
The sound, indistinguishable from a rattle snake,
Shouts leave now!!
Do they notice his distress, I wonder
Or is he purely an exhibit
Present merely for their amusement?
They look and move on.
And I wonder,
How did we humans come to believe
The world, nature, wildlife
Exists merely for our pleasure
For our consumption and entertainment
How can we ignore so blithely
The beauty and life
In all creation?
How can we miss the divine all around us?
Tell Me
Hi Everyone!
Sorry I have not written much here lately. I have been busy with preparing for speaking engagements and working on book number next!! Book number next has the working title “Spirit in Creation.” It is being written with a co-writer!! More to come… On Wednesday, I met with a group of people at Granite Ledges in Concord, NH. This luncheon/talk was hosted by Granite VNA and Granite Ledges. It was great to meet many of you for the first time and see others again!!
At that event, I read the poem “Tell Me”. I promised I would post it here on my blog for people to re-read as they choose. So here it is!!
Tell Me
Tell me, Sir, have you thought at all
About the end of your life?
Tell me, Ma’am, how do you envision
Your last weeks, days or moments on earth?
These questions, I know
Are heavy
Laden down, fraught with emotion
Let’s look away
Don’t go there You say
Save that conversation for another day.
Tell me, my friend
When will that day come?
Will you wait
Until it is too late?
Might you delay
So long you have no say
Because you cannot speak.
Life is fragile
Our bodies vulnerable
Bad stuff happens
No one escapes alive
Looking away
Comes, often, with a heavy price to pay
Children argue – disagree
What would Mom want?
What would Dad say?
The decisions are hard
And often lead to conflict, grief, guilt feelings.
Decisions made at a time of great angst
Are seldom made with careful consideration
Are often questioned, critiqued and regretted
Tell me, what would you want
If nearing the end of your life
Where would you like to be?
What would you wish your medical care to focus on?
Would you wish to try to prolong your remaining days/weeks
Or would you wish, above all, to focus on being as comfortable and peaceful as possible?
Tell me, who do you think
Would honor your wishes?
Who do you think would be capable
Of advocating for you
Even when filled with sadness?
Tell me, and we can work on that.
Tell me, can you imagine how
Facing these questions now
Would be a great investment
In your future
And the future of your loved ones?
Thinking about, talking about these issues
Does not make them happen
But when they do happen
It makes life easier for everyone
It makes your life your own.
Patricia O'Connor
Rainy Day in the Mangrove
Challenges abound
Synchronizing efforts and destinations
Aboard a tandem kayak
Sitting in a pool of brackish water
Grey clouds blanketing overhead
We enter the mangrove tunnel
Camera in hand
Ready to snap any birds
Who might be silly enough
To stop by on this chilly Florida morning
Arriving in the dark of predawn
Certain the sky would open up in flames of beauty
at any minute
precisely as forecast.
We paddle through the mangrove tunnel
Within five minutes
The grey sky darkens menacingly.
I draw my camera under my tee shirt
As the clouds begin to empty
Drops now pelt down upon us,
Sadly, I reach for the dry bag
The camera goes away.
The water filled seat
Is getting harder, colder
I push my life jacket beneath me
We paddle on
Any animals present in that mangrove forest
Are likely getting a good belly laugh
At those crazy humans.
Laminated map in hand
I attempt to navigate
But within our group of 4,
There are as many opinions as options
As to how to maneuver through the maze
Tom suggests I put down the map
And just enjoy the ride
See where the water takes us!
Released from the chain of expectation
I am free of worry
I go where the water beckons.
The sky clears
Well, not totally
But the rain stopped
My arms and paddle silently shout
Look!! Stop!! Hush!!
A really big bird in amongst the trees
There he goes . . .
We paddle on
Around the next corner
He is waiting for us
Perched on a branch above us
Unconcerned
The Great Blue Heron!
His eyes are fixated on the water below
A wading bird
Of majesty and beauty
A treasure found in the mangrove forest
Raining on/off
Wet now – not caring
Watching, waiting
Free to explore
In this world of nature.
We laugh
We paddle
We carefully step out of the kayak
Amongst the mangroves
Shifting our weight,
Stretching our legs.
Two hours have passed
How did that happen?
My soul is singing with delight
This is my happy place
But it is getting colder, darker, wetter
Our journey takes us out of the maze
And we head back
But more excitement lurks high overhead
An osprey on her nest
We move to mangrove’s edge
Lodged within the roots
I snap picture after picture
When I hear a rustling sound
There beside me is a Little Green!
She is making her way across the roots
Head down – fishing
Seemingly unaware of human danger
I watch in awe and joy
Thank you, Mangrove Forest,
For sharing your life with me!
Patricia O’Connor
2024
Who Are You?
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.
Slowing Down
Slow me down, Lord
Ease the pounding of my heart…
This has been my prayer for decades
Hurrying is a tough habit to break
But so important to at least tame
For when you always hurry
Your focus is narrow
Eyes on the next goal post
No passing Go
No collecting a Hundred Dollars
You do not pause to embrace the sunrise
Or be awestruck by the plant’s new buds
Or the cardinal bringing color to the grey tree
Or the child overflowing with mirth.
My challenge to self for 2024
Is to allow myself
To Move through life
More slowly
With eyes wide open
Savoring the beauty and wonder
All around me.
Happy New Year!!
Take Your Time
"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!
Cleanse Me
Wipe the crust from my eyes
Clear the windows of my soul
Open my eyes to see
Truly witness
The majesty of creation
The ocean
Powerful mountains of salty liquid
Racing across the surface
Capped with toupees of white
Blown off as they go!
The vastness
Only ocean, sky, clouds
Deepest blue enhanced with grey
Topped by robin’s egg sky
Decorated with mounds of meringue
Beneath that rolling sea
Exists a living world
May it remain
May it sustain
So many lives dwelling within
Plants, animals – microscopic to gargantuan
Baleen whales thriving on diets of tiniest plankton
The miracle of life’s cycle
Played out in harmony
All held within this liquid home
May we treasure it
May we respect it
May we learn from it.
Crumbs for the Journey 