November

Scarlet tree branches,

Moon light through naked limbs.

Night is silenced by the cold

And damp forest sleeps.

The songbirds have gone,

Their singing missed by the morning.

Crows caw to the shadowed sun as

Darkness increases its grip.

It is all winding down,

Life and love, slowly seeping into the ground.

The cold silences and subdues,

Its victory complete and all sleep.

The wind speaks to me in this dark time.

It’s howling through naked branches

Reminds me of the power, the life force that

Remains when the sun has pulled back its warmth.

The cold is too strong, to deep to penetrate

It is invasive and complete in its capture.

It holds down life,

Forces it underground to wait.

The cold is not evil, but is

A necessary part of the whole.

Without the cold time there would be no spring,

No return of the sun, no song birds to sing.

The cycles must run, the four corners call

And she who dwells in the heart must be heard.

All is right, all is good, all is as it must be

Should be, is and forever will be.

November

Coming Cold

Winter is not a time of loss,

Not just a time of cold.

It is a pause,

A break in the cycle of growth and light.

A time to rest, step back, step in,

And reflect.

The dark time brings us back to hearth and home,

Back to our roots and each other.

We share this quiet time within ourselves,

Deeply formed thoughts reflected in firelight.

Winter is a time of shared isolation.

We are all closed in, alone with each other.

The trees are quiet, too.   All

Sounds are muffled by the snow.

Burrows and dens surrounded by the white warmth

Shelter life until spring.

Crystal cold water runs beneath a

Covering of ice,

Sneaking away to the open sea,

Escaping the slowing by cold’s icy grip.

The cold penetrates all, it slides

Silently over the sills

And in through the cracks and settles

In pools around my feet.

Cold turns the air into crystals of ice,

That sparkle as diamonds in the sun.

But the sun holds little warmth in winter.

Her light for illumination only.

She has given the world over to the other side

A universe and life in balance, as it should be.

The light and warm time will come again, it always does

It is trustworthy.

So I am content to sit by the fire and marvel

At the wonder and beauty of winter.

I appreciate my place in the flow of the seasons

And my oneness with all creatures.

Join me, step back and observe, listen and be still

Hear the magic and grace that surrounds you.

Let the crystal blue sparkling sky fill your eyes and heart with the joy of the season

And be at peace in this time of waiting.

Creator as Creation

The undisputable evidence of the creator

Surrounds me.

She is in the heart of every rain drop,

She is the voice of the thunder.

Her soft strong hand holds the sun in the sky,

And the birds on the wing.

All life is a manifestation of

Her will and beauty.

To deny her is to deny

My very existence and the existence of all that I love.

Her voice echoes in the wind and her love

Caresses my face with moonshine and starlight.

Only she knows the time of the seasons,

As she knows the passions of my heart.

Life without the acceptance of her presence

Is possible – but empty.

My practice of Buddhism, without her foundation, without her to seek in the

Stillness of mind,

Would become empty and shallow, self serving,

An interesting preoccupation only.

I see her in every flower, every mountain top,

Every smile.

She exists in all of creation, every part and particle,

Every quark and lepton, every neutrino and vibrating string.

They all bear her thoughts and are ruled, created and

Imbibed with her universal consciousness.

A consciousness that she freely and openly shares with each and every one of us,

All we have to do is seek and she will answer.

She is an endless thought, an endless love, all encompassing, and all knowing.

She holds all the possibilities of eternity in her thoughts and ideals.

The creator has become the creation. She resides in me and you.

Reach for her in the darkness and feel her light and hope,

Open your eyes and be awake to her presence, your heart will echo her joy forever

And you will never be alone again.

She will never disappoint you,

She knew you before you were born.

The Watcher of the Wood

From my bedroom window

I watch the woodland change with the seasons.

On the corner of the house, a maple branch hugs the windowsill

Its leaves framing my view of the forest.

How can I explain the secret life of leaves I observe from my window and the

Magical growth that takes place in silence unseen?

I can think of no words to use, so instead I just watch, I watch the breeze

ruffle the leaves and the branches move together in the wind like fans made of feathers.

And then the rain comes and I watch the drops play the

Leaves like keys on a piano.

I am content with my role as watcher and marvel at the strength and skill the trees employ when they interlock  their arms to form an impenetrable force of gentle power in silence.

These graceful tree spirits are woven together by the hand of God to create

The framework of the forest.

They surround my home and speak to my soul and

My heart hears their thoughts and hopes,

And I realize and know that they are

Not so different from me.

I understand and accept that we share this planet and are

Children of the One in all our varied forms

All connected,

All equal in the eyes of our creator.

And the peace and stillness of the wood

pervades my soul and feeds my spirit and makes me one with those who stand outside looking in.

Haiku 4 poems

Uncommon fair time again

All natural and good

Wholesomeness is its hallmark

Break

I expect so little now

Is it still to much?

Let go, watch me fall apart

Break

The birds are very busy

They sense it is here

Frost on the field this morning

Break

The humming birds are now gone

No one saw them leave

They slipped away in the night

The Courage of Autumn

Swift summer snuck in,

Greening up from the edges, shading the forest floor.

It came complete with lovely summer evenings

Where warm breezes filled the night,

And a blanket of starts twinkled in the

Dark humid haze.
The August thunder filled my soul

With its power and its wildness renewed me.

My garden produced produce from the earth

Feeding my soul as richly as it fed my body.

This summer was a season of energy and rapid growth.

There was no time to waste, “bloom now, don’t be afraid” was its message.

But now, without warning, the days begin to shorten,

The afternoon shadows grow longer.

Late night mists form as the heart of summer

Makes its escape back to the sky from where it came.

The golden sunglow fades from my skin as it

Has from the fields.

A summer season of riotous beginnings looses its energy and

Fades into the arms of autumn.

As the seasons change, so must I.

I need to return to the safety and warmth of my home and

Gather my growings to feed my body as I gather my loves

To sustain my soul through the cold, dark time to come.

Autumn is the time to return to what was, to what came before

Summer’s brief and beautiful interruption.

Fearlessly and with a final burst of thanks in colors of red and gold,

The earth has gently shed its past with its leaves.

If only I could shed mine with such courage and beauty.

When the Clouds are Loud

Molly says, “The clouds are loud”

And she is so afraid!

Are you afraid when the clouds are loud?

And the lightening flickers across the sky and lights up the night?

And when the flashes come, do you see

Scary things in the shadows?

Are you afraid when the clouds are loud and

The wind howls and shakes the house and the rain falls in sheets and makes a pond of the field?

Are you afraid when the clouds are loud and the trees shake

And bend in fear

And the flowers cower and crows call and

The garden rolls up her skirt and hides behind the barn?

Are you afraid when the clouds are loud and the sky turns dark and

Thunder shakes the ground, rattles the windows and

The windmill blades spin in terror and

Birds hide in the cellar window wells?

And when the clouds return to silence and the world is washed fresh, does your fear wash away with the rain water?

Molly’s does.

Alone in the Darkness

Thunderstorms, candlelight and

Loneliness.

Lightening has taken the light away,

My house and my universe are in darkness.

Candles and lightening flicker

Illuminating a small space around me,

Showing me what is

Possible, but unseen.

The darkness’s flickers of hope

Mirror the hope of my heart.

My love is like the darkens,

It surrounds me,

Envelopes me but shows me

Flickers of what could be.

I have been alone, always,

Or so it seems.

My heart aches for the special connection.

A love to hold my hand in these beautiful times of thunderstorms and candlelight,

And share with me my essence, my joy in all there is,

But I guess he doesn’t want to and I don’t know why…

Oh, I can make it alone.  It is what I know.

But it is comfortable in its dependability only.

The thunder brings the sky to life,

Then returns it to silence.

As he brings me to life when he is here,

And returns me to silence when he leaves.

I need more time, more time to learn to love the right way,

I have tried, I keep trying, but it doesn’t seem to matter.

I don’t know what I am missing,

Just who I am missing.

And so I sit, on this lovely evening of thunderstorms and candlelight,

My hand un-held, my heart still alone, and I don’t know why.

Maybe I should be grateful for small things, at least this time

My love is worth crying over.

Nature’s Balance

Purple thunder, speaking sky.

The sound sneaks in to doubting ears, mistaken signs.

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.