Wednesday, July 15, 2020

The Quaking Aspen

Here is my dying Quaking Aspen tree
Now age 20, dwarfed and smothered of light
By a giant Coast Maple, there before its time. Once,
it was a sapling planted by a couple, the ex-
husband called it the stick, a mean-spirited nick-
name for such a lovely being.  As it grew, it set
out new saplings up and down the yard—its
young, for which there was no room. The mower
chewed them up, and as the Aspen grew it shared
fewer of them until it gave up on making a grove,
attending to its own struggle in the Maple's shade.



 

Quaking, shimmering leaves on a summer afternoon
make music like no other sound.  Goldfinches sing along,
preparing nests for their young, then begin losing their
bright yellow coloring in late autumn as the Aspen flashes
leaves of the brightest gold, as if borrowing color from
the birds. Then the leaves fall, and the tree sleeps and
waits for spring. 



This spring was the Aspen's last, with few brave leaves
on bare boughs that still stretch for the sun.  I will
burn incense in its bark, will sit against its strong white
trunk—maybe will sing to it—before the workers come.




*

Written for dVerse Poetics: 9th year Anniversary hosted by Brian Miller, whose encouraging anniversary prompt inspired my first poem in nearly a year.   My case of writer's block has been debilitating and I thank him for coaxing something, just anything, out of me!

*

Monday, October 15, 2018

Sobriety: 33 years



Ich komme aus meinen Schwingen heim -by Rainier Maria Rilke

I come home from the soaring in which I lost myself.
I was song, and the refrain which is God
is still roaring in my ears.

Now I am still
and plain:
no more words.

To the others I was like a wind:
I made them shake.
I’d gone very far, as far as the angels,
and high, where light thins into nothing.

But deep in the darkness is God.


-from Rilke's Book of Hours – Love Poems to God



As I have since this blog's inception, on the day of my sobriety anniversary I publish this treasured Rilke poem, but with a new image each year.
.
(I hope to join the blogging community again soon.  I have missed writing, and I have missed you.
.

.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Sobriety: 32 years


Alone, young birdy


Ich komme aus meinen Schwingen heim -by Rainier Maria Rilke

I come home from the soaring in which I lost myself.
I was song, and the refrain which is God
is still roaring in my ears.

Now I am still
and plain:
no more words.

To the others I was like a wind:
I made them shake.
I’d gone very far, as far as the angels,
and high, where light thins into nothing.

But deep in the darkness is God.


-from Rilke's Book of Hours – Love Poems to God



As I have since this blog's inception, on the day of my sobriety anniversary I publish this treasured Rilke poem, but with a new image each year.
.

Friday, September 29, 2017

Gratitude


If not for the gray-haired man on the beach

who stopped me to ask if my dog could have a biscuit —

his eyes welling with tears over the loss of his Lab just

two days before (leaving him without a dog for the first

time in 30 years and his pocket still full of treats) —

who pointed to a wave at "one o'clock" to site the

huge seal bobbing there and then noted a whale

was out there further, I'd not have walked on

(after wishing his heavy heart peace) with my eyes fixed

below the horizon, and would not have seen the joyous

spout ~ I called back to him and he nodded ~ and then

another spout to the right, indicating at least two whales

were there, and would not have seen the graceful curves

of two whale bodies shining in the early autumn sun.



Were not the three Monarch butterflies puddling in pools

near the cliffs, flocks of celebratory Sanderlings flying

switch-backs along the waves, and the companionship of

my precious dog already gifts enough to me this day?



I honor them all with Gratitude.

Saturday, October 15, 2016

Sobriety: 31 years


Wind Moon, and Clouds by Cam Davis


Ich komme aus meinen Schwingen heim -by Rainier Maria Rilke

I come home from the soaring in which I lost myself.
I was song, and the refrain which is God
is still roaring in my ears.

Now I am still
and plain:
no more words.

To the others I was like a wind:
I made them shake.
I’d gone very far, as far as the angels,
and high, where light thins into nothing.

But deep in the darkness is God.


-from Rilke's Book of HoursLove Poems to God



As I have since this blog's inception, on the day of my sobriety anniversary I publish this treasured Rilke poem, but with a new image each year.
 .

Thursday, September 22, 2016

I love the moon



For the moon

Even if I could not see you
Your glow would cool my mind.
There you are, steadfast, at ease,
Lighting the night, putting right all
The harsh ills of the day, making
Me grateful for my eyes, your peace.

.

Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Happy New Year

The separation from my blog since my last post in October 2015 is the longest I've had since creating Writerquake. Focus has been a main issue. I absolutely hate that, and hope to reign myself in, settle down here more often. I have missed writing, and, more than that, have missed reading posts at other blogs so much and sharing comments with you.

The only consistent writing I've done is at Facebook in the form of Haiku posts. I've gathered some of them here to communicate how I witnessed the seasons of 2015, simple proof that I kept my eyes and heart open last year.

~~~

Muted moon tonight
Hazy ring wide as the dome
Night birds flew through it

Road through rainforest
Sopping air, clouds high and bright
Prisms burst through fog.

Tense ionic air
Zeuss rumbles and cracks - birds still
Wash of sweet rain calms

Sleeps in black velvet
More precious than daytime's gauze
Summer night sublime

Silver Creek whispers:
"Remember, remember when . . ."
I know when is Now

Vast starlight—midnight
Shooting star arcs in delight
Dusts me with insight

Last rays on gold fish
Bird of prey soars with dinner
First/last flight for fish.


Golden spider weaves
Midnight, porchlight, rain falling
Autumn comes softly

Power saw's loud scream
Silent fir's last day of sun
Old-growth thuds on ground

Low frothy white clouds
Tiny star plays hide and seek
My bright deep-space friend


Asleep beside me
Stretches, grunts, long legs twitching
Wild puppy runs free

Tree finally up
Lights purple red green gold white
Sugarplum puppy


.

Thursday, October 15, 2015

Sobriety: 30 years

Stillness by Michael Sprouse


Ich komme aus meinen Schwingen heim -by Rainier Maria Rilke

I come home from the soaring in which I lost myself.
I was song, and the refrain which is God
is still roaring in my ears.

Now I am still
and plain:
no more words.

To the others I was like a wind:
I made them shake.
I’d gone very far, as far as the angels,
and high, where light thins into nothing.

But deep in the darkness is God.


-from Rilke's Book of Hours – Love Poems to God



As I have since this blog's inception, on the day of my sobriety anniversary I publish this treasured Rilke poem, but with a new image each year.
.

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