Tag: nature

Nature’s balance (re-post from 2015)

On By MiCoIn earth, garden, god, growing, Joy, love, nature, poetry, seasons, summer, sweetness, thunder2 Comments

Purple thunder, speaking sky.

The sound sneaks in to doubting ears.

But soon, unable to be ignored, it rolls in

Splitting the sky,

Singing to my heart

And watering the earth.

As the storm approaches, the lights go out.

The air is still and filled with anticipation.

Birds become silent and

Trees grow heavy.

The rain follows the clouds

And the wind rocks the trees to the sound of the sky.

Heavy air crushes the field and

Rain pummels the garden.

Plants, grass and trees shake in the torrent and rivers run along

The roadside washing away the day’s dust.

The very earth trembles with the power of the storm

As lightening spells its name in the sky.

The black clouds race across the heavens and

Carry the storm on their backs.

But all too soon for me, the western horizon brightens, the

Energy is spent, the storm subdued.

Sunrays break through the darkness and

The earth sparkles and shines in its fresh – washed brilliance.

The storm has run its course,

Released its tension and fulfilled its purpose.

The birds resume their song, the brook runs full,

The garden is watered and the earth refreshed.

The thunder returns to silence and

Nature’s balance is restored.

 

 

Owls

On By MiCoIn courage, darkness, Death, earth, Joy, light, love, nature, poetry4 Comments

They are nothing less than silent, swooping, gliding,

Magic,

Whose calls echo through bare spring trees

And color my nights with beauty.

One calls and waits.

The answer to come when it will.

With each call, the distance lessens between their

Voices in the night.

That which fills my night heart with light and joy,

Fills the hearts of others with fear.

It is the fear of ending.

An ending that comes out of the sky

In silent, swooping, gliding, magic.

The magic of beauty or,

The magic and freedom of death.

The Stones Will Remember

On By MiCoIn changes, childhood, courage, dreams, earth, faith, growing, hope, Joy, light, love, Man, nature, past times, peace, poetry, seasons, sweetness, Uncategorized, Woman, Writing13 Comments

Evening shadows shift

Through broken windows.

 

Chimney bricks slide down the roof

Puddleing under the lilac bush.

 

Weeds spread into the driveway

Reclaiming it for themselves.

 

When was this house built?

Was it ever new?

 

The yard and doorframes bear witness

To the families who grew here.

 

Long forgotten toys and broken swings

Hide beneath the matted field grass.

 

A broken clothesline flaps in the gray autumn breeze and

Sprung clothespins mold and rot into the ground beneath the broken posts.

 

Feral cats are now the only life that calls this old farm home,

And birdsong still fills the rafters of the barn.

 

The barn that once held livestock

Sits shifted on its foundation,

 

Listing and leaning to the south,

Away from winter’s fierce winds.

 

The stately oak gracing the front yard is rotten and broken,

Its fingers through the house roof.

 

Where did they go, the people

Who called this place home?

 

When the last one left,

Why didn’t they clean out the house?

 

Why not take the toys?

Close the windows? Lock the doors?

 

Did they not know they were

Never coming back?

 

The windmill out back has long ago

Crashed into the apple orchard,

 

Breaking in to pieces as it fell

and crushing the trees it had stood watch over all these years.

 

But in man’s absence

The apple trees continue to produce.

 

The lilac bushes flower every spring in spite of

Not being “cared for” in over 40 years.

 

The forest is slowing creeping back in to fill the void

Left when the field was abandoned.

 

All that remains of the people who once called this spot of land home

Is the family graveyard,

 

Where stones are carved with love and care,

Preserving for all time the names and dates of those whose lives began and ended here.

 

But the lilacs don’t care about being preserved,

The Oak is beyond pride and the buildings are slowly returning to the soil,

 

Just like the bodies beneath the stones.

Another 40 years and the stones will be all that remains.

 

They will be all that is left to tell the story

Of a time gone by.

 

The story of a house built to last a lifetime, a barn crafted with pride,

The story of generations of a family who lived, worked and died on this land.

 

A story only the stones will remember.

It Waits

On By MiCoIn courage, dreams, earth, faith, god, growing, hope, Joy, light, love, love poetry, Man, nature, peace, poetry, poetry changes, spirit, sweetness, symphony, Uncategorized, Woman, Writing3 Comments

It waits with patience hands

Outside our knowing, waiting to be let in.

Its story is always the same,

Its truth dependable but not always what we want to hear.

There is no hypocrisy, no deceit in its soul.

It is the soul that fills the void, that encompasses the eternal.

It exists in rhythms of time, tides of dependability,

Cycles of freedom and seasons of hope.

It can be ignored, but never escaped and so it waits,

In beauty and joy, in bliss and acceptance, in love and peace,

For us to wake up and realize it is but a mirror of ourselves,

The face of our existence, the light in our souls,

The essence of our being

Before we were born.

Wind

On By MiCoIn changes, darkness, dreams, earth, god, hope, Joy, light, love, nature, peace, poetry, seasons, summer, sweetness, thunder, Zen4 Comments

Stunted trees

Bend and cower from the wind.

Its Winter howling is incessant.

Its cold all pervasive.

The mountain side Bearberry brambles

Grip tightly to the glacier scarred rocks for safety as the wind

Flows in rivers of the sky

From the White Mountains to the sea.

It feels its way with outstretched arms

Solid and real, over a

Path that is well worn and familiar into the valleys

And river beds along the way.

The power of the wind pushes the sound of thunder ahead of it

And Carries the storm clouds on its back.

It washes over the landscape

In partnership with the trees.

It is a force that can move them to dance,

Shake them to their roots, and love them with its allover touch.

Mountains and trees diminish the wind.

They sap its strength with their reluctance to let it go.

They want to hold on, to experience its freedom and lightness

They yearn for a chance to throw off their earthly chains and soar above the land.

But in the end, at the last, the sea is the master leaving

The wind no choice but to rush into its out-stretched arms, to be consumed by the waves,

To become one with the spray, white with its foam,

And in the crashing of the wind powered waves on the shore,

Release its energy back into the realm from which it came,

Completely the cycle once again.

 

Storm Dance

On By MiCoIn courage, dance, dreams, faith, hope, light, love, Man, nature, peace, poetry, seasons, spirit, Uncategorized, Woman, Writing, Zen2 Comments

 Coastal dunes slide and slip into the sea

As the storm rolls on to the north.

Gulls scurry to grab unfortunate crabs washed ashore by the crashing waves.

Seaweed floats and ripples with the waves like grass in the wind and

Salty sea spray coats the disinterested windows of empty houses on the shore.

The tourists have all left for the season

Leaving the ocean and beach to carry on with their lover’s dance

Un-witnessed and unashamed, with freedom and reckless abandon.    

Just Look

On By MiCoIn candles, changes, dance, dreams, god, hope, Joy, light, love, love lost, love poetry, Man, nature, peace, poetry, poetry changes, seasons, Uncategorized, Woman, Writing5 Comments

I saw the stars last night,

Didn’t even have to get out of bed.

They were so bright in the cold, dense,winter air

That they shown right through my lacy bedroom curtains.

I saw it as a reminder of what is still there and always will be,

And to find it yet again,

We just have to look through the holes one more time.

Because of Him

On By MiCoIn autumn, faith, family, god, hope, light, love, love poetry, nature, peace, poetry, poetry changes, spirit, sweetness, thanks5 Comments

 

Gratitude for the smallest 

Becomes gratitude for the eternal,

Because the eternal exists in even the smallest of things,

Like a baby’s smile, a milkweed bloom, and crystal blue winter skies.

An autumn leaf, falling softly and quietly,

Releases its life full of gratitude willingly in a celebration of color,  it knows.

It is the smallest of things in my life that cover me in warmth and

Feed the fire of my gratitude with love.

I am thankful for sunrises and sunsets,

The defining moments of each day’s beginning and end.

I am grateful for my children and grandchildren and friends –

All manifestations of God.

Even the light in the eyes of the the wild ones of my forest home

Shines with the spirit of the heavens and the intimate knowledge of Krishna’s grace.

And when I am in danger of forgetting these things, these perfect and beautiful things,

something as simple as seeing my clear glass canning jars, standing in a sparkling row,

Can bring me back to myself, to my home,

The home I hold deep within, the one that holds the essence of me.

It is my gratefulness that fuels my passions for the loves in my life, from acorns to hummingbirds

Grasshoppers to lightning storms,

Soft kisses at midnight,

And sweet love in the morning.

I am grateful to exist in a flood of grace and love.

Grace that is endless and effortless, and love that is freeing and all encompassing.

My heart is full and my smiles are because of him.

Hari Om

In Shared Seclusion

On By MiCoIn autumn, changes, courage, dreams, earth, faith, hope, light, love, nature, peace, poetry, seasons, Zen10 Comments

 

 

A field of brown grass,

A drop of chilly dew,

A morning kissed ripe apple, and

A bursting milkweed pod…

Signs of the change of seasons and an

Elevation of my consciousness.

Summer has ended.

It has shed its past and faded into isness

But it’s an isness that is charged with the now.

At the change of seasons, there is a new definition of me.

One that shifts with the sun angles and holds my spirit in kindness.

It is a newness in me that ebbs and flows with the tides and moon cycles.

That builds on the new life essence that captures my attention

That fills my heart and soul.

An essence of change, of new life, of new beginnings from old endings.

It is a change that envelopes my being and carries me along with it.

A flood of truth and trust, a deluge of emotions and warmth.

My heart misses the summer season but my soul is alive with the contentment of the coming winter.

A sheltered silence in seasonal separateness

But all together just the same…

In shared seclusion.

The Water’s Fine

On By MiCoIn changes, dreams, earth, faith, fear, hope, light, love, love poetry, nature, peace, poetry5 Comments

 

Don’t wait, take the plunge.

Hold your nose and jump in.

How else will you ever know if it is too soon or too late?

If you will sink or swim?

Where will the answers come from and when, if not now?

I have waited before,

Have stepped back from the edge

Just in case I was wrong.

But now, at this time in my life, there is no wrong, there is only what will work now,

 Or more accurately, what I will make work now, for in this present moment, anything is possible.

And if I should get tired of swimming and start to sink, I can just put my feet down and ground them in the earth. 

It is never too late because it is always now.

So stay with me in this present moment where there is no room for fear,

Trust me, take my hand and take the plung,

The water’s fine!