MothwingBlog nature-art-poetry

just past lilac time
the blue moon of may
smiles all golden
low in the eastern sky

it's so romantic --
reminding me of you

me -- still loving you
you -- far downstream
from everything we shared --
beyond reach

you didn't know this
I'm sure
the poem I sent you
to read at the gathering
when I couldn't go
and the poem of yours
I read at the festival --
two experiences
I did not anticipate
but will not forget

knowing from a distance
you were speaking
my words aloud
to our friends
and months later
performing your words
as a poem so near
to my voice
it belonged with my own

two moments
of separation
and secret translocation
I glimpse the world
from beneath your skin
see the crowd's reaction
through your eyes
feel your breath rise and fall
with my words
your your voice
your words
my voice

is it any wonder
i love you still?

I think nature arranges things
so that I show up at your door
just when you need a friend
to remind you
how good and strong
you truly are

It's the only talent I have,
really --
to simply follow my path,
until it leads me to be
where you need me
when you need me.

there's nothing i can do,
actually
except sometimes
a few dishes,
but i'm the one who knows
for sure
that there is life
after the heart
gets wrung out
completely
when tears feel like
the truest companion
and spring seems
so far off

all I can do
is remind you
gently
that seasons
always
change

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

...it was in the depth of winter
that i discovered in myself
an invincible summer...

The oldest American organization established to promote the conservation of nature.

Brother of my heart, Sister of my spirit

Dear Brother of my heart,
I'll never forget the sight of you
digging on the top of the hill,
intensely working, graceful and strong,
silhouetted against the brightest blue sky,
with the tops of the neighboring trees
swaying about your shoulders;
from my angle it looked like
you were very high up,
doing something
that would change the world.
I'll treasure the memory
of seeing your body
so at home
with the manual chore,
your spirit so at one
with your purpose.
It was a beautiful,
blissful feeling
to know I'm the reason
you worked hard
to plant a tender little bush.
Thank you.

Gentle Sister of my spirit
Thank you --
for me
that
was the rockiest ground
i ever dug
and there was no time
to waste
i was taken back
to summer jobs
to the archetypal dance
of picks and shovels
to feel again
the satisfying crunch
of pick
through stones and gravel
dirt packed hard
as bedrock
thrilled to the bone
to be the bond
between earth and you
grateful
beyond the stars
to see the eager
emotional energy
my little brother
your brilliant son
was bringing
to his chosen task
clearing your great garden
of aggressive weeds
all of us together
claiming
this humble
forest hilltop
for the family
of flowering
spirit

~~~~~~~~~~~