Oh What A Wonder!

April

So much waiting to be born.
Blackberries not yet on the

bramble path, much less so
sweetening tarts and tongues.

Spring peepers chippering
moonlight — oh what a wonder to

be the pond that enjoys such a
buxom chorus. Sap waiting to

rise in rabbits and wolves  —
their winter stains bled and shed

for the next generation’s fur and
teeth. Wood violets and dandelion

laboring earth and leaf debris
— no less faithful the insects and

breezes that scatter their seeds
and gaiety. Wide vees of geese

to unzipper sky of cloud and fog,
percussing wings and wills of

summer grazing across fields,
streams and highways. Green,

pink and yellow ready to stir
northern gardens into tulips,

roses and corn. Yeast with water
and wheat rebirthing warm and

wrinkled hands — rises and yields.
Rises and yields. The soft dough

braiding Spring into Easter Bread,
Babka and Challah.

April…
so much waiting to be born.

 

AG ~ 2017

 

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Conversations In Snow

It’s the last day of January  already, and at the same time, it feels as if half a year has passed in the last week alone. It’s softly snowing outside alternating between light flurries and squally white. A couple of inches have fallen since morning and not much more predicted to adhere. It’s a “nice” snowy day – just enough to feel like a winter postcard and to sweep a path rather than shovel away. Nature’s shawl, rather than a blanket, looks as peaceful as it feels.

~

Soft snow clings to the Pine,
its needles purr a gentle white.

Fresh tracks scamper under the fence –
some look hurried, some not.

It’s always a joy to see
an animal’s track of travel

In the snow
picking up a rhythm

if I just close my eyes
and listen.

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Rain

I love rain and rainy days. I need the break between too many sunny days ~ yin and yang; light and shadow; feminine and masculine. And I recently realized just how very much I enjoy the start of rain showers. Having worked outside my entire adult life, I was often present when rain moved into my area. What always soothes and never fails to delight me still, is hearing rain before I feel or see it. There is a real pleasure to hear it splatter softly onto treetops and filter down. Even in winter, without any leaves to splash, I heard the rain on an early morning walk, before I felt it. It’s a sweet plushy sound.

I am inclined toward melancholy states of mind which lends a gentle poetic kinship with rainy days, puddles, storms and twilight.

~

would Camelot really be as sweet without rain?

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Wabi-Sabi For A Fractured World

Adapted from the book:

Wabi-Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers by Leonard Koren.

Wabi-sabi is a Japanese aesthetic. It is beauty of things imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. Wabi-sabi is earthy, idiosyncratic, organic and intuitive. Corrosion and contamination make its expression richer. It is comfortable with ambiguity and contradiction.

It’s mantra so to speak: To everything there is a season.

And therein lies its remarkable and simple beauty. Wabi-sabi is not bounded by expectations or desires. Things wabi-sabi are unpretentious and can appear coarse and unrefined. In other words, we must look beyond a worn and wearied surface to appreciate its value and beauty. As a way of life, wabi-sabi is about presence, acceptance and nature. Its song is melancholy and bittersweet.

Wabi-sabi is the poetry writ within our nature and humanity:

This too shall pass.

~

crickets
quiet
tonight
only
the
rain

 

ag

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It Helps To Remember

Good morning!

The garden is glorious. More so as
early clouds pearl the earthy color.
Hummingbirds, butterflies and all sorts
of winged and waddling critters
are hard at work on the Sage, Snapdragon and Angelica
that gently ripple and titter in conversation.

Such a poppy of delight! I do my best to savor
what we shared in the garden, and it helps to remember
that your hands and fairy blue eyes
also loved to caress the Calendula, Cleome, Rue
and sweet September mornings
such as this.

For Robin
September 2016

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Wee Flowers

s
o
m
e
times
the tiniest
flowers in the
teeniest of vases
catch our breath and
give the cheeriest hello
in a split second of delight
on a day that would otherwise
pass as a drama too complex
and sophisticated for the
delicate loveliness of
wood sprites unless
we unleash our
true selves to
play with
these
tiny
s
t
a
r
s

~

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