It's morning on River Road. Yes, it's the first day of spring, but it still seems a long way off from where I'm sitting. I know it can turn quickly, so I'm practicing patience and trying to stay present to what is. Before long I'll be back working in the yard, and then, a little beyond that, feeling grass beneath my bare feet. Until then, I continue to be entertained by the ongoing tussles between the birds and the squirrels on the feeder amid my never-ending appreciation for the ever-changing light. In the morning, long shadows lie across my flowers sleeping in their beds. By mid-afternoon the light has created blue snow, a reflection of the very blue sky. And, in the evening, silky ribbons of pink light fall across the back yard ~ afterglow from a setting sun.
Happy Vernal Equinox, everyone! Here are a few more micro-poems I wrote at https://twitter.com/bayousummer2 inspired by life right outside my window:
red tailed hawk sails upriver beneath a pale grey flannel sky
evening sun gathers in the trees / fills in the rough edged bark with left over light
under the lilac tree / snowshoe rabbit sleeps / dreams of spring
pink light / through snow covered pines / evening falls
moonlight calls ~ black bears leave their dens ~ dance in the snow
from across the frozen river / coyotes summon the rising moon / under the porch light / the dog listens
early march / snowbound again ... at the bottom of the mason jar / the last piece of summer
sheathed in grey linen / birch trees ... scratching life from the sky
on her way to love / she crosses the fence line / deep footprints in the snow
... she wanders ... somewhere between the frozen field and quarter moon / behind her ... a trail of half eaten stars
chickadees sing in the crab apple tree / the hoarfrost quietly lets go / surrenders to spring
I'm looking forward to Spring.
ReplyDeleteAs usual I enjoyed your post.
Thank you so much, John. Yes, spring!
DeleteGood poem. this morning I was reading, "Writing Brave and Free," by Kooser and Cox. In it I found these words about poetry -- . . . poetry is like dropping a rose down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo ~~~ Don Marquis. Although I seldom attempt to write poetry or anything akin to it, I thought I would share this as you share your poetry and introduce so many of us to its power.
ReplyDeleteOh, I do like that quote. It seems so very true. Poetry has sustained me throughout my life, even as a child. Thank you, Barbara.
DeleteI think I must read "The Four Agreements" that you show on your sidebar. I noticed #2 "Don't take anything personally". Lately I've been stewing about perceived slights and feeling really low, which sorta leads into #3 "Don't make assumptions". I'm trying to attribute it to my lack of wild turkeys but it's not working. I hope the book helps!
ReplyDeleteI think #3 is the hardest. How can you get through a day without making some assumptions? Let alone get through an hour?
DeletePractice, practice, and more practice, along with letting go of preconceived notions of how we think others think or feel, or how we think things are supposed to be... key word being practice... like so many things, such as sailor's knots, perhaps. :)
DeleteJanice, That book changed my life. I still have to work at practicing them, sometimes even more diligently than others, but they have made all the difference. I hope you find it makes a wonderful difference for you, too.
ReplyDeleteI saw a quote on Facebook today that made me smile, "It's none of my business what you think of me." I like that idea!
DeleteYes, so do I. And it's very true. Remembering that can bring a person a lot of peace.
DeleteI love the half eaten stars !!
ReplyDeletedirty mounds of snow remind us of things best forgotten
buds struggle to emerge from icy dreams, all life renews...... eventually
a limb cracks under the weight of spring snow, the reminder to let go when it's time
poor attempts too late in the afternoon
Morgan, I like these! Not poor attempts at all. I'm so glad you included them. They each have a nice ring of some small, or not so small, truth to them... :)
DeleteSuch beautiful lines; separately and together they make me shiver with pleasure.
ReplyDeleteOh, Friko, thank you so much. I cannot begin to tell you how much your comment means to me...
DeleteWe had another major storm yesterday, dropping another 16" of the white stuff. About 5 feet in 5 weeks or so, and possibly another one next week. Spring will come, we'll just have to wait for it to show its face, won't we? And these micro poems? Love, love them.
ReplyDeleteMy heavens, Bill! That's a lot of snow... I trust you and the hounds are enjoying traipsing through it, seeing what's out there to be seen. I'm so glad you share it with your beautiful writing.
DeleteI'm so glad you like my micro-poems. Thank you.
May your cosmological new year reward you greatly for your humility and sincerity.
ReplyDeleteGreg, What a lovely comment. Thank you so much. Yes, a new "year."
DeleteJust today I got the book from the library that I've been waiting for since you recommended it: Mary Oliver's "A Thousand Mornings." It's so incredibly beautiful I feel completely blessed to have received it today. Thank you for enriching my life, Teresa.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy that beautiful little book, Jan, every poem a gem. :)
DeleteHappy Vernal Equinox Teresa! Pleasant and beautiful thoughts!
ReplyDeleteHappy Vernal Equinox! Thank you so much.
DeleteSo wonderful, Teresa. Your poem embodies everything I see or feel right now as I sit here "at the bottom of the mason jar" sipping tea on a cold, cold morning.
ReplyDelete-11 at 5:00 this morning. The winter that will not yield. :)
DeleteSimilar clinging Winter here in Scotland, Teresa, as I look out on a blizzard. To think I was going to plant some seeds in the grow box last week. Made that mistake last year in May. Temperatures fell to - 7 24 hours later and I had to start all over again. Worth it though.
ReplyDeleteGardening is such a tricky business, isn't it? You never know until you do... But, yes, always worth it. May we both see strong evidence that spring exists soon. :) Thanks, Tony.
DeleteTwo years ago my Lenten discipline was what I called my "Porch Poems" - records of the first thing I saw every morning, in 140 characters or less. (Yes, to fit Twitter, although I didn't Tweet them.)
ReplyDeleteI think I'm going to begin that discipline again. It's a good way to sharpen observation, to find new words and to make every syllable count. Yours are so rich and nourishing, they make me want to take bite after bite after bite...
I really like that, "porch poems." It does sharpen our thinking and winnowing becomes a necessary discipline. I enjoy it more every day. What a nice compliment. Thank you so much. I look forward to seeing yours!
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