Wood Thrush
Babbling Creek
Blue sky
Wandering
But not lost
Homesick
But home
Friends song
Held in the notes of the Louisiana Waterthrush
Spring has sprung
Quiet mind
Space
And wonder..
Tick tock
Adventure calls..
This Old Tree
This old tree
Has been standing longer than me.
It died many years ago.
A large healthy limb in the pine beside it is all that keeps gravity from pulling it to the earth to depcompose.
I have been watching and waiting
For years now.
Each time I walk near it I look at it and wonder
When it will fall.
I wonder if I will notice it when it is no longer there..
I wonder where it will fall.
And, what it will look like when it does..
And what it will sound like..
It isn't much to look at.
Even the birds stay away from it.
Most humans would never notice it.
It is almost invisible in its standing decay..
I could easily knock it down.
It wouldn't take very much.
But I don't.
Instead..
I wait.
Underneath
Home Is
A spider web
Glistening
In the light of the sun
Rising in the east.
It is the sit of the wren,
The pecking of the chickens
And the sweetness
Of my lovers kiss
Upon my neck
His breath and smell forcing me
To close my eyes
And savor the moment.
Home is the roar of the highway
As people travel
North
And south
Even on a perfect
Sunday morning.
It is a breath held
And released
Thankful
For the stillness the cool breeze
Brings to the moment.
It is the glistening drop of water
Slowly gathering
Light
And enough weight
To drop
To the earth
In a thundering unexpected
Silent splash.
Home is the chatter of the squirrels
Momentarily upset
By the hawk
Who hunts them
And miraculously appears
Seemingly out of no where
Or the raccoon
Who instinctually year after year
Returns to the faithful persimmon
Savor in their short season.
It is the pine warbler trill,
The hermit thrush song,
The nuthatch call,
And the seasonal
Eastern phoebe song.
Home is here.
Jones Gap
My breath before me
A hat upon my head
In absolute stillness
I hear the katydid sing
So close I can hear the massage of their wings
Before his music fills the air
Of the night.
I climb giant rocks
To better look out over the river
Gazing into the wandering waters
The stories it's molecules can tell..
Without from whence it came
It would have no where to go.
In the darkness of the new moon
The wolf moon
I have heard the Owls song
And the coyotes howl.
I wonder over all of it.
How did they come to also be in this time?
In this place?
