October 4, 2001
Wind whispers
through the canopy
like lake ripples
through the trees
Small leaves spiral
thick as raindrops,
pixies dancing
on the breeze
Sunlight consecrating trees -
almost I hear an organ sound:
I, pilgrim and acolyte,
the golden forest
hallowed ground
Birch bark like ancient manuscript
writ by a gnarled and pointy hand
tells tales of olden times long-gone,
bygone days upon the land
Once again, the breeze-song swells,
upon the wind a hymn of praise:
to these blessed simple days,
these days we have,
a hymn of praise.
*** *** *** ***
July 22, 1999
Graceful heron
swooping across
the evening sky
like a pteradactyl,
Prehistoric bird
perched on a treetop,
My heart swoops with you,
then stills,
standing by the silent pond,
waiting for the night to settle
around us both
softly as feathers.
*** *** *** ***
SONG OF THE FROGS
July 9, 1999
Song of the frogs
in the fading light
soft fade the hills
in the falling night
God touching earth
with a gentle might
and all is beauty
within my sight
soft falls the light
on garden walls
a rose-hued mountain
as day's curtain falls
a froggy symphony
serenades the night sky
and grateful, grateful, grateful
I.
*** *** *** *** ***
meditation on green
july 1, 2001
the color of life, of growth,
tall, spindly pine
draped in old man's beard
a thousand fern fronds
under whose umbrella
twin blooms
small as a baby's tears
peek pertly
jagged stump
covered in soft thick moss
framed by tall cedars
among whose lofty branches
songbirds flit
their trill echoing across
the sleepy forest
winding trails
through the silence
paths springy, living
underfoot
where we walk
heads thrown back
-alive!-
one with the ferns the fronds the trees
the height that teaches us to strive
the sky
a compass for
all our flighty dreams
clouds drifting by
one breath two breaths
leafy breath
and human sigh
birdsong
ringing through the silent
canopy
piercing me
through
with each piercing
I'm made new
becoming
becalming
forest floor alive
under our live feet
step so lightly
dont crush the mosses!
fairies drinking dewdrops
from the white bell-shaped blossoms
frogs in the skunk cabbage
yellow jonquils
line the deadened pond
the forest holds its breath
and waits
it waits
till we are
gone.
*** *** *** ***
hymn of praise...simply exquisite. amen.
ReplyDeletewow sherry, all of these are beautiful. I esp. like the rhymes and internal rhymes and half-rhymes, in most of these but you scattered them just enough to set up an expectation in our ears. It's subtle the way that and the repetitions make it almost a song.
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