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Archive for October, 2019

Snow Angel

Snow
blinding
frantic
slamming
sageIMG_0626
pines
blanketing
valleys
ravines
dust roads
fluorescent
tears
riotous
constant
circling
my face
until
I laugh
hard
loud
belly
dusted
frozen:
Never
take life
too seriously:
so
stick your tongue
out,
drop
drink
breath inIMG_7271
wet snow
feel
the frozen earth
under you
roll
make an angel
and remember
your wings
will sprout
one day
fluorescent
as frenzied
as this snow fall
and
you will vanish.

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                                                                                                                                                                              IMG_0677“Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem.” Matsuo Basho
1.
I stand on the gravel road
look toward the snow crested
mountains
hear the dogs’
clinking collars –
a dirge of sorts,
scan the horizon
eye one forlorn
raven
skimming
darting
defiant
against
fading light
reminding me
that each sunset
is a small
precious death
as constant
as tomorrow’s
new birth
precious cycle
never broken,
until
my faint
steps
fail
one day
leaving
no choice
but to fly
over the ridge
into
the heart
of
this mountain sun.
2.
Raven haired
you called me once
did you know
I would need
my second sight
to follow
into
your vast realm
where
once again
I would
feel
the soft flesh
of your lips?
The gentle stroke
of your hand?
So long
the years
have paraded
gently
sweetly
into a final
stage
of grace.

3.
Today
the wind
whispered
a secret song
I have heard
before
in my mountain
solitude
filled
my heart
with quiet
suspended
notes
in timeless space –
your wrote
that too –
“if time were space,
I would walk home.”
Only now
so many years later
do I understand.
4.
As sure as the sun sets,
raven flies
river rushes
leaves fall
winter comes
light fails
earth blooms
my heart
will fall
far past the mountain ridge
only to burst
into sunrise flames.

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We’ve just had a harvest moon,
and suddenly
winter is blossoming
full force
in the Gravely range.
Last night
the waning moon
shone so brightIMG_0629
on the recent snowfall
I saw the shadow
of a weasel chasing
a mountain hare
like a black
and white
cartoon
flashback
from my childhood.

The snow started
mid afternoon
with full gusts
blowing
it onto the wide
valley of prairie grass
and dusting
the peaks
across Reynold’s Pass
until the dusk
when everything
became engulfed
in a ghost like white
purity
as if the pale
moon itself
had melted.UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_2e10
Standing late
on the wet snow
I knew
this is what death
must be like:
taking a breath
melding
into
sheer light
sound
muted
time
standing
still.
It felt
blissful.
One can only hope…..

l

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In the moment….

 

Walking
late afternoon
fading light
leaves
auburn
gold
plum
fire
sing
summoning
winter airRuby-crowned Kinglet s52-13-393_V.jpg
wind
at my brow
hair
free
wild
tussled
drinking
colors
deep
into my throat
so in the
darkest
winter
on
a silent
damp
night
I warble:
ruby throated
kinglet
solemn
a top
one last
green leaf,
my red crest
crowning
toward
winter sky.

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Today in a moment of total
abandon and inner stillness
I felt the full spectrum
of how prosperous
I am.
Not as in billionaire
listed in Forbes
BMW driving condo
owning
trust fund entitled
age denying
limelight chasing
asshole
or enlightened
ageless
sadhu
dreads down to the ground
patient begging
saffron robed monk
third eye activated yogi
mountain hermit
blind
to the evil
Narcissistic modern world
who sits alone
in nature
nestled
in moss
free from this Maya
we call life.

Rich
beyond the ticking
clock
I stare at
the green canopy
of the walnut tree’s
healthy leaves
where
a solitary cedar waxwing
perches
eyeing the feederCedar-Waxwing-Pictures
busy with
goldfinches
chickadees
juncos
nuthatches
swarming
with titmice
as they converge
like winged
locust.
He waits patiently
bright yellow bar
on his tail
flicking
in masked annoyance.
He has found
the mother load
fresh
hulled
sunflower seed
for the taking
and
his patience pays.

My heart fills
with abandon
of joy
at this autumnal
scene
etched
by rays of darting
sun beams
like waves
cresting
leaves.
This my view
my corner
of nature
in the heart
of a city
waiting
for cleansing rain
to clear
solitude
desperation
of
sleepwalkers
thinking
themselves
full
as empty
they truly are:
bliss comes
from the inside
you can’t buy it:
they wake
too late
down
under
one last gasp
of regret…..

Rich beyond measure
the cedar waxwing
and I
here
in this perfect
present
moment,
both
alert
open eyed
and blessed:
he for the seed
 me for the sight
and time
to etch it                                                                                                                                                  into my heart.

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