We leave our mark on things
Our names
A symbol
A statement
Of politics
Or preference
Of love
Or hatred
Or indifference
Or ignorance
Our names
A symbol
A statement
Of politics
Or preference
Of love
Or hatred
Or indifference
Or ignorance
Tag: nature
Where the Earth heaves up
Here and there the elements conspire
Like where the Earth heaves up
And breathes out strange beauties
From its belly of fire
Like where the Earth heaves up
And breathes out strange beauties
From its belly of fire
Like here, where the fires burned
In Yellowstone
And the sky shone purple
Above the sun’s yellow, turned
Revealing the world beneath
Some ascribe great powers to time:
To heal
To create
To destroy
To heal
To create
To destroy
But time itself wields no might
But for agents of change
Like the workings of nature and her creatures
Footprints
A dinosaur walks a beach at ebbing tide
And leaves footprints of celebrity
Lasting hundreds of millions of years
And leaves footprints of celebrity
Lasting hundreds of millions of years
I walk a beach at ebbing tide
And leave footprints of no consequence
Washed away in just a couple of waves
Anywhere in the world
Yes, I have said, many a time
How much I love the desert
And the mountains
On which I bike and ski
How much I love the desert
And the mountains
On which I bike and ski
But… Oh! If I could choose
Choose anywhere in the world
It would be here, I’d live
In that dark house by the sea
Heavy Air
The air is heavy
Laden
Saturated
Laden
Saturated
Clings to my flesh
Beads on my clothing
Thick with moisture
I rise
I awaken at dawn
The first hint
Of sun’s rising
The first hint
Of sun’s rising
I rise
Before the sun
Rise to greet a new day
The Seashell Nebula
Continued from An Artistic Encounter With Nature
I return to Chesterman Beach every year now. It always surprises me that the house still isn’t there, that she is nowhere to be seen. I look up from the beach, expecting to see her, there at the top of the rocks, cradling a steaming mug of tea in her hands.
A matter of scale
A tree grew to near maturity
Then whithered, died
Stripped of leaves and bark
Beside the pockmarked stone wall
Obsidian black
Beside a towering escarpment
Then whithered, died
Stripped of leaves and bark
Beside the pockmarked stone wall
Obsidian black
Beside a towering escarpment
Or is it just a sprig
An ephemeral growth
A life spanning a single desert rain
Beside a rock worn smooth
By the long dead river
Which cut a chasm wall
Aeons ago
Reef Point
The best journeys, it seems to me, are the unplanned ones, taken on the spur of the moment, reliant on the benifecence of serendipity. I understand why not everyone who travels would agree with this. For serendipity to work, one must believe in it. Listen for its song. Follow its voice when it calls. One cannot do this if plans are laid down like concrete foundations. Planning must be fluid, flow like a rivulet on a sandy beach, as easily diverted as the whim of a child with a stick.
Pix to Words 