Nature’s Bounty

The language of birds is very ancient, and like other ancient modes of speech, little is said, but much is intended.~Gilbert White

As the fog lifts, the rising sun creates
a rainbow in the lake and I’m too cold
to take the shot. It’s not that chill dictates
how I invest my time. The heron’s scold

and abrupt flight, his breakfast fish prospects
and my delight hold sway. So I’ll describe
and wish that words convey the fog’s aspects.
Mysterious light quells my diatribe.

Other realms appear. It’s clear I create
ways to bifurcate. Feeling chipper–awed,
I look up and two young deer peer, await
my gaze before bounding away. Applaud

the innocents today. A songbird trills
and takes my heart away. When I can still
and open to wild nature’s call, my path
is easy, slipping through the mainstream wrath.

Inspired by: Fish, Chipper, Bifurcate and Invest and nature in a wild and riotous display this morning.

Arboreal Delight

Trilling his conk-la-ree, the red-winged blackbird
sings in dawn. A great blue heron stalks back
through the song in rainswept stillness. The mere
is silver shimmering in dark. Right here

my buoyant spirits lift with birds in flight
weaving through my restless dreams at night.
Reflecting my clairvoyant brand, the world
advises how my growth can be unfurled,

teasing out strands woven to be stronger–
survive–discarding what serves no longer.
The cautionary tales of nesting birds
contain the lessons I most need. No words.

A predator arrives, ominous wait.
Out of the clouds a swallow dives fierce, straight
to the head, the pecking a surprise. Hawk
leaves. I heed. When one is misperceived, shock

needs must be achieved. Tiny prey defends
the nest unflinchingly. How it all ends:
sovereign and free, as storm clouds race above
and I learn practicalities of love.

Inspired by: Buoyant, Arboreal, Teasing and Brand.

Hidden Seeds

Eternal intent radiates fields of energy not visible to your physical sight.~Ken Carey

I read this with delight, my sleepless night
common for homeless folk whose seeming plight
demands unceasing antenna precise
and coldly practical despite respite.

All fodder for the perplexing spinning
thoughts, dexterity rejecting winning
losing as the options narrow wholly
captured by the past when all that’s holy

yet to be in seeds that seem unlikely
to sprout with this doubt running inside me.
The book rests to my left, offering hope.
I read one line and once more, I can cope.

Written for the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt to write about the thing “to your left” (The Third Millennium: Living in the Posthistoric World by Ken Carey) when you sit down to write and inspired by Dexterity and Fodder.

Featured image: Did the geese at this lake take fertility pills? One family of 18 newly hatched goslings sailed past on Thursday. Yesterday, this family took all prizes with 21 babies!

Deep In The Dance

Something happens to you when you begin to think about this planet as a single living organism. And when you begin to live in that awareness, nothing is ever again quite the same.~Ken Carey

Thin wraiths dance eastward over warm waters.
Chilled and bundled in fleece, I watch as geese
emerge like stones waking to feed, such greed
as light reveals their hiding place. They honk

alarms along the gosling-littered tarmac
path, such charm, but shoes a must. Fingers chilled
but here outside my passions rise. I’m filled
with joy and peace. You want to talk vaccines.

Just look, my crooked face, heavy metals trace–
that clear view reveals my stand. Unrespected
population propagandized nations
caught in fear, learning controlled, injected

by calamity we cannot see, fish
swimming in an unsensed sea, yet we wish
for unity, attend group-think workshops
to train out all individuality.

There is no lottery to win. Within
unique imagination is built in,
our saving grace. We pause and listen, give
space to the underlying love we live.

Inspired by: Lottery, Workshop, Vaccine and Calamity and these books: Crooked: Man-made Disease Explained by Forest Maready and What Really Makes You Ill, Why Everything You Thought You Knew About Disease Is Wrong, by Dawn Lester and David Parker.

Featured image: a great blue heron fishing this morning as I tried to capture the fog dancing along the lake surface. Below image: I tried to capture the eery fog a bit later when the sun began to rise.

Set Me In Motion

Every day, no matter how you fight it, you learn a little more about yourself, and all most of it does is teach humility.~John D. MacDonald

Cretins are the only humans who can be absolutely certain of their own sanity. All the rest of us go rocketing along rickety rails over spavined bridges and along the edge of bottomless gorges. The man who believes himself free of any taint of madness is a damned liar.~John D. MacDonald

I long to photograph this peaceful view,
the budding trees, reflective waters’ hue,
four golden goslings just hatched yesterday,
their worried parents watchful in the bay

but in the very softest silver dawn
a great blue heron claims the cove, the lawn.
I’m scribbling as motionless as I can.
He’s gorging here in wriggling minnow land.

One, two, they swim between his legs. We wait,
silent and still, the fully present state.
Awake, it’s 5:55. This open gate
pulled me from verbose automaton prate

to here and now. Fresh from the self-made tomb
the insights spinning though I haven’t moved.
Addictive patterns set in motion–plunge–
another morsel, his successful lunge

in pure intentional life a wake-up call:
foreswear games plum insane. Create it all.

Inspired by: Motion, Plum, Fresh and Verbose. Featured image had to wait until the heron finished breakfast, and make do with geese. Here’s the goslings who came back right as I was ready to hit “publish.”

And a little bit later, this great big new family came to visit!

Feeling The Glimmer

Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.~Rabindranath Tagore

The laughing waters touch the shore, delight
reflecting light. Barefoot in dew-soaked lawn
camera lens blurs and balks, nearly dawn
images cannot convey the way of bright

lifting the darkness. Out of my repose
–I dream I’m flying, springing from a board
to soar above excited watchers, horde
imploring me to teach and I suppose

I might. Cheerful hymns of praise insistence
conjuring day, rising from trees. The owls
fly over, crow-escorted, nightly prowls
nearly complete. Here in my consistence

the pinks weave into clouds as–glory be!–
a heronry erupts and four great blues
flap from the nearby roost. They perch in twos
while one flies low and claims a spot by me.


Inspired by: Blur, Laughter and Repose.

Intentional Life

The objective of cleaning is not just to clean, but to feel happiness living within that environment.~Marie Kondo

I aim to be an insidious cleanser
like dawn, imperceptible zoom lens
inevitable sweeping all the dark
uncertainty. Watchers in trees who mark

the changes praise in song, for night is long.
Each step precise, honor uncompromised,
reflecting joy I’ve found deep in my heart
through darkness and apparent wrong I start

intention strong, impervious. No harm
is real, no cloud can hide my basic charm.

Inspired by: Cleanser, Basic and an inspiring dawn. An eagle flew overhead just as I was ready to press “publish.” So she’s made her way into the poem.

A Great Joy

Have you ever noticed that when something unusual turns up, you are immediately confronted with a moral problem?~T. H. White

My friends urge me to be heroic,
to soldier on, to be stoic while
the Grand Human Experiment goes wild
gene manipulation unreconciled

with common sense or any reins. The change
forced on us, willy nilly, quite deranged.
Illegal, immoral, unneeded masks
foul poisons aswirl, propaganda tasked

with new realities, unfounded lies.
Impoverished spirits, minds dulled, lost to skies
of basic truth. They’re all boxed in. The screens
keep them entranced. I’m outside in the green

willing to chance meeting a human. Drones
abound in these strange realms. Evil at helm.
With each breath, love acclaim and reject
fear, malicious consequences reflect

the choice to raise my voice. For now it seems
I hold the spear of righteousness. My dreams
reveal my sovereign power rising strong
uttering here and now my sacred song.

Inspired by: Basic and Acclaim and (featured image) last night’s amazing sunset.

Like David and Goliath

Personally, I have found that the best way to deal with a dangerous situation is to face it and make it happen, and to go through with it, rather than to keep it hanging over one’s head…Bring the matter into the daylight of some kind of certainty, rather than to creep about in dangerous hiding, under the shadow of discovery~T. H.White

The defense of nests is fierce, air traffic
patrolled. Diving swallows, photographic
red-winged blackbirds and the bawling plover
warn potential predators: don’t hover

here or you will glimpse my ire. Situation’s
dire. Lurking cowbird plots infiltration.
Mallards contest a curve of rocky shore.
The geese persist where they were hatched before.

The gray aspect of sky silvers the lake.
Numbed by my lack of sleep, these visions slake
my dreamy trance, insist that I awake,
embrace here now. Disclosed, the old heartache.

Inspired by: Aspect, Glimpse, Bawl and Traffic.

Featured image: cress leaf groundsel, packera glabella (recently moved; previously classified as senecio vulgaris) which, in want of a press agent, is vilified and poisoned and called weed.

Soldier On

Now I finally show up in my home
town with proverbial prodigal poems
–last year, they threw stones. Thin corridors
to refuge in that deluge choristers

offered. There’s no excuse. The past unloosed
becomes a story I rewrite. My might
–I’m warrior, accompanied by birds,
grounded and balanced–is writing unheard

words to convey some of this morning’s joys
–my raft through waves. A shy green heron’s poised
and dives into the bright reflective lake.
Goldfinch and oriole and robin make

this trilling, clacking, whistling bustle.
Revealing now, brave, ready to hustle
for deeper cover, yet nothing stops song.
Singing together, praising sun, rights wrong.

Inspired by: Corridor, Excuse, Proverbial and Deluge .