Tag Archives: release

Coming Winter

Posted on by Standard 2
Re-posted from Enchanted Nature's Facebook page

Re-posted from Enchanted Nature’s Facebook page

COMING WINTER

The rain is steady across the field
And cold lays heavy on the pane
I welcome the turn inward
As fall drifts to winter’s mane

Fires are stoked without
And within a blaze burns, too
A warmth bathes my thoughts
As the blanket wraps the limbs, cocooned

Incubation brings reflection
In the way the clouds mirror on the lake
Real, rich and yet, transparent
To be remembered even as they fade

Gold leaves fall, wet and dark
In the growing wind
So I let my thoughts fall, too
Damp upon the skin

Winter lurks amongst the vines
Of the pumpkin patch, now bare
And I grow empty of a year’s losses
Floating lighter on this eve’s air

The fields are empty of there harvest
Apples are long to their bins
All things must sleep to be fertile
And I am now free to sleep in

Sunrise

Posted on by Standard Reply
Re-posted from Enchanted Nature's Facebook page

Photo Re-posted from Enchanted Nature’s Facebook page

At first the light is soft
More a grayish change from a deeper night
Then the gray takes shape, as light causes
The bark to darken to the west
I am steady as the trunk
Eyes, too, are soft upon the grain

We are objects in a photographic negative

Gray seems to move into the deepest purple
Red
Almost without my noticing
It is the great prelude
The rich, earthy drumming that heightens
The senses to the light
To come

Orange like fire streaks the trunk
And lifts the eastern bows up into
Arms praising the Sun God
Who has yet to grace the
Horizon
The purple red drifts into the color
Of shadow and now even the
Nightshade is no longer night

I breathe it all into my inner sanctum
Quiet in my meditation
The thunder of the rise a crescendo
Seen only at the pulse

Such be the morning drama of it all
And it would be
Too much
If I were not already weeping

Pooh: Little Gem

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Bridge over Dutch Creek: Photography by Noelle

Bridge over Dutch Creek: Photography by Noelle

“Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.” Winnie the Pooh

Glacial Flows: Photo Poem 8

Posted on by Standard 2
Glacial Flow: Iceland: David Yarrow Photography/Getty Images

Glacial Flow: Iceland:
David Yarrow Photography/Getty Images

I first saw this pic on Bing, but didn’t catch the photographer. Later I saw it posted on a number of Facebook pages. It’s quite beautiful and worthy of admiration, both for the photographer, whoever they are and for nature. What a grand display she offers. If anyone knows who the photographer is I’d love to know and credit them.

Marbles

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Tunnel River Marble: Photography by Noelle

Tunnel River Marble: Photography by Noelle

I feel the edges of my thoughts
A blind woman reading brail
Stretching them further
I feel the thinness
Emotions never go as far
As the first stone thought tossed

There’s no pulling back
Once thought escapes
Electric charges fire into a
Neuro net sky
Frankenstein’s monster lives
And like his maker
I, too, love and hate
What I create

I turn inward
Withdrawing the great sustenance
My attention
Each thought suddenly a marble
Rolling around on the floor
Agates
And crystals
Real blown glass

All colored to a feeling
A place or time assigned
Catalogs lay open on gray matter tables
A jeweler placing an order
Fiery anger
Melancholy blues
What is the hue of the day?

Alphabet Soup

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Hidden River: Photography by Noelle

Hidden River: Photography by Noelle

After their all gone, I find I’m still here
Bound to earth a regular oak in the field
Captured in this moment a
Dog with her bone
Even the clock ticks slower than a
Frost’s melt
Goaded by the weight of
Hampered grief in my chest
I stand in the quiet, deciding?
Jump back in or dally
Kicking the cat
Love is at the center of all this, even as
Misery runs me down in
Narrow alleys that smell of
Old fish and over sweet
Poppies
Quit your begging at
Rama’s door, I say to the mirror
Salvation is in your
Tight belly – hungry for
Unity a
Volcanic sound blasting
With the power of
Excalibur
You are grace and beauty at the
Zenith of a transformation you command

This Abecedarian was created in the Front Range Writer’s Room hosted by Marj Hahne

Spirit Water

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Urban Flow: Photography

Urban Flow: Photography by Noelle

My spirit moves as water.
Fluid and full at a trickle as a gush.
Evaporating in the hot sun, yet frozen as the lake I stand on in muddied boots.
Permeable while demanding as a slap.
Softly infiltrating the skin and wearing my mind round as sea stones.
I pull nutrients from life as the salt water robs the drift wood white.
There is weight in my thoughts.
The settling of sediment of a thousand lifetimes on the reef of gray matter entrenched to the floor of my skull.
And still, I seep into the crevices of dams built long ago. Working steadily and freeing it all a duck feather swirling round in the eddy.
My spirit moves as water, influenced by a divine moon.

Above piece inspired from “New Organism” by Andrea Rexilius

Then Nothing

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Reblogged from Ed Strachar: posted from Totemical: Bruce Cuse artist

Reblogged from Ed Strachar Healer/  Bruce Cuse artist

The woodpecker strikes the metal roof vent
It rattles persistently in the early dawn
Then nothing
I listen more closely
I extend my hearing into the nothing
The silence is noisy
There is a whirring of the Universe ever present
A dove coos, distantly
Then nothing
My thoughts move the same way
Bills to pay
Then nothing
Work project memo to send
Then nothing
My thoughts are their own eco-system
The woodpecker strikes
So deep now, the rattle doesn’t register
Then nothing
I push my hearing even farther
I am listening for the pin drop
on a whale’s back
Off the coast of Nova Scotia
Then nothing
There is a whirring of the Universe ever present
If I allow it
It will lull me into peace