Tag Archives: Nature

To be tiny

 

To be tiny
Climb a blackberry bush
Step between the large dull thorns
Wave to a passing ant
Ascend the most vibrant cluster of flowers
Swallowed by a profusion of white
Wrap yourself in a petal of living silk.

 

To be small
Climb a tree
Admire the neighborhood
Wave to a passing plane
Feel the branches bend beneath your weight
Wrap your hands around the sun-warmed wood.

 

To be insignificant
Climb the surface of a little blue planet
Breathe the miracle of air
Wave to a passing meteor
Wrapped in the inexorable present
Know that your meager vision
Only goes as far
As the neighborhood stars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

The joke

 

A group of invisible frogs
Chuckle noisily together
Over some private joke
In their corner of the swamp.
Curious,
I draw near; they fall silent.
So I resume my wandering
And they resume their laughter.
This time, I presume,
The joke is me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Yin Night

 

 

The moon dangles low in the sky
Pendulous and swollen with yin
She pours yellow light over the people
Blessing them, affecting them
The night is pregnant with her influence
I am unsettled yet productive
The cat, especially susceptible, is yowling
And by the time I get to bed
Which I have cleaned obsessively
I have three perfect scratches on my breast
From tangling with his derangement.

The night is full
The moon is young
Tomorrow is Friday
And what will the people do
Under the powerful influence
Of such a moon?
Will they drink their sad
Will they fight their anger
Will they see their fear
Will they fall in love.

The stars have joined her company.
Orion draws his bow
The Pleiades cluster shyly behind him
And the moon loves them all
Fractious, anarchist,
She loves night best
But vacates her seat from time to time
Stepping into day, disregarding order.
She had tea with the sun just yesterday
A nudge to remind him there are other, subtler gods.
Tonight she glows with his bright memory.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

after a snowstorm

 

soft, white, glitter cushioned
suspended in chill
bunnies, birds, even trees huddle
keeping their tiny inner fires lit.

life is
hush.

as the air falls still
the stars shine sharper.
unalive, eternal outsiders,
the only things not muted
by the passing of a snowstorm.

 

 

 

 

 


 

Allow me to lessen the impact of the poem with kiddie art, haha. I’m trying to learn how to do digital art now. This is one of my first efforts. Brushes are fun.

bunny

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

One Bird

 

One minute left
To breathe
One stream trickling away from the desert.
One bird lands to sip
Delicately, as birds will
Beakful by beakful
The sweet cool water
Life giving, nourishing.
And then with ten powerful thrusts of his wings
He is again aloft
Looking for something
Only he knows.
One bird in the sky
One story
And not much at all to tell.
But to him
It is the only story that matters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

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