Tag: nature

one thin wisp of cloud

it’s midday.

i empty the used coffee grounds

from the press.

it’s too late now for

another cup.

i carry the

grinds to the compost;

walking barefoot through the grass

the air is thick with humidity

the lawn

feels damp underfoot.

i pause, gaze upward,

shielding my eyes

from the sun.

above me,

one thin wisp

of cloud.

it seems adrift, out of place.

can you see this?

wherever you are,

can you see this?

the shape of the cloud

is so feminine

in shape;

voluptuous, round,

gesturing in a way that is both crude

and shy way.

can you see this?

i feel out of place.

here in the yard,

on the grass soaked with humidity.

can you see me?

wherever you are,

can you see me?

i stand there until

the cloud

melts away into blue,

a rich blue,

a humid blue.

wherever you are,

can you see me?

​

the old tree

A tree stands and waits with patience.
Its trunk is full of gnarls,
like the fingers of an old person.
It stands, faded by the sun,
having seen many years go by.
Days and nights
move around it.
We look up at the blue sky,
so rich and clear,
and sometimes forget what we truly need.
We forget to be patient

Get out of the way
old tree!
I want to see the sky.

But the tree remains patient.
During the day,
it marks the earth
with the movement
of the sun
across the sky,
never rushing,
just letting things be,
moment by moment.
At night, it stands
almost like a guard,
keeping watch,
waiting.
It never complains,

You are gray today,
bring back
Your blue sky!

If it cannot
mark the earth
like a sundial,
it simply waits,
gnarled and old,
just as it did yesterday
and as it will tomorrow.

to the heavens

i woke up to blue skies

and noticed how gently everything moved

as the pine trees swayed

out on the horizon.

my tea is black

rich and strong

i try to sip it slowly

the mug is hot

against my lips

i do not remember

if yesterday was the same

or if the day before

was any different

now, i’m not sure

if it even matters

today the sky is blue

tomorrow it might be

dark gray all the way to the horizon

and when the gray

stretches on and on without

any definition

i’ll remind myself it doesn’t matter

and that tomorrow

it might be deep cerulean

endless from the earth

to the heavens

 

the lilac tree

the lilac tree

is ready once more

with blossoms almost here

about to bloom

and last year’s buds

are now just reminders

turned inward on themselves

this is how nature

teaches us to move on

shows us that

we have to accept

with time

we also need to let go

in time

of every season

and their memories

only a lilac tree

could

show us this

with such bold defiance

with such gentle grace

fly straight

Today I learned what geese talk about
when they fly,
when they leave for the winter.
I said,
“No, it can’t be,
They look like they have everything,
They really seem to have it all
all figured out.”
from the ground,
gazing up,
up, up, up,
Their direction looks so certain,
Their flight seems so pure,
as if they live with a real purpose.
But now I think I understand what they say
when they are migrating,
when they are flying away.
They are not talking about the view.
They are not talking about the endless horizon, either.
They do not talk about a life of freedom.
Instead, this is what they say:
“I need to keep moving,
If I stop, I will start to think!”
“Will I be attractive
When I get older?”
“I think I’m lovable,
but maybe I’m not.”
“Am I necessary to this company
Or just kidding myself?”
“I pushed away another beautiful soul
and I made it look like their choice.”
I stood there on the ground,
barefoot,
with grass between my toes,
looking up,
feeling surprised and amazed
as they sang their songs overhead.
How could that happen?
But part of me already knew
and part of me understood
Those golden arrows you see can only fly straight
for just so long.