Two sandhill cranes graced my yardPranced their annual gift, unruffledKnees high with each graceful stepBeaks uplifted in stately postureWere they parading their beauty for me? No, mating season trek The NaPoWriMo prompt today was to write in the poetic form of sijo. I used poetic license to play around with the syllables a bit. Photo … More Annual Gift
I walk a few steps on the dirt path, turn slightly right at the pond. There she is. My mother-tree. Massive in her majesty. I bend my head upward to take in her sky-bound thick trunk. Her branches reach east and west. I have arrived at my mother-tree. I smile. Firmly press my hiking boots … More Mother-tree: A guest post by Janice Fialka
Colors, spirited in autumn array roar out to us acknowledgement that winter soon will be whooshing in with callow shadows and chill But don’t despair, dear one, autumn is a lucid whisper that all of life is mortal that all of nature turns Beauty is enhanced when we accept its ephemeral nature let us treasure … More Autumn’s Portent
the written word, words unspoken wind chimes in a breeze seasonal changes, all kinds of changes, even the ones that I fear children growing into adults adults remaining childlike trees planted generations ago and trees that sprout through sidewalks the quiet nature of rocks the flowing nature of streams the busy nature of squirrels the … More What Inspires Deep Respect Tinged with Awe
I sat in the glider outside this morning To begin my meditation Birds’ songs and squawks filled the air A single feather rocked back and forth As it journeyed from a tall tree To land on the glider beside me It was not symmetrical Yet was still in good shape Blue and white tipped in … More Feather
Mary Oliver said in an interview once that she was in a classroom, composing a poem for students on the white board when a flock of geese flew overhead honking. She incorporated that event into the poem she was writing for them on the fly; the poem that later became “Wild Geese”. I shared this … More A Tribute to Mary Oliver
My yard is filled with squirrels, some red, some grey, some black some fluffy, some thin some bold enough to visit my porch but one little squirrel out in the yard I recognize by his size I thought at first he was still a youngster so small compared to others but he’s stayed small since … More Little Squirrel
Let me learn from the geese who year after year with magnetic migration are pulled to fly with intent along a path that is deeply woven into their DNA In their migrating “V” they change positions to follow or lead, give others a boost, or rest together when weary I often lack such intention to … More Living with Intent
At dusk, I hurry to writers’ groupdriving along an empty open stretchof a two-laneby the nature center I slow down, though, when I seewhat I soon recognize asa brood of wild turkeys,five little ones bookended by two adults They wattle in a straight lineseeming unaware of potential danger I stop to watch this slow family … More Wild Turkeys
Early hours of an August day, Still pleasant in the shady yard Provide the opportunity To be still beneath the trees Eyes closed, bathed in birdsong And crescendos of cicadas I pull into my breathing Listening to earth’s music When opening my eyes, I see A chipmunk by my shoeless feet Eyes meet eyes in … More August Aubade
