Blossom

There is no sweeter thing in life
Than to feel love grow ...

The Fire Moon

Through the smoke of distant fire
Drawn into the dusky sky,
Growing stronger - rising higher
There it met my eye.
Its glow was sure - a firey red,
A pagan sight, it's true.
From the sleeping sun it fed,
And yet it was quite blue.

The Aviary

Robins sparring.
Sparrows flitting.
Herons flapping slowly.
Ospreys crying.
Flickers twitching.
And eagle screams unholy.

Geese are settling.
Ravens circling.
Mergansers diving deeply.
Wood ducks squawking.
Hummers darting.
And owls that question creepily.

Hawks up soaring.
Blackbirds warbling.
Doves mindful of their mourning.
Pigeons swooping.
Killdeers flopping.
And crows screech out a warning.

Lawns of jade.
And indigo skies.
The lake is flashing sapphire.
Branches bow.
The meadows sigh.
I'm so grateful that I sat here!

Spring!

sunshine
skis
soft snow
and smiles

Indulgence

One by One we pray.
The Goddess nods and smiles.
And the Snow Gods have their way.

Essence

My name is Midnight Raven.
My passion is Freedom.
I fly with the eagles and the ospreys.
I sail upon unfurled wings.
I feel the wind in my face
and laugh
and cry.
And in the presence of fear
I soar
higher and higher
farther and farther.
And exalt in the face of that fear.
I live
and I thrive
as I ride the mistral.
I am Midnight Raven.
And my essence is Freedom.

Falling

Soft snow
Sifts
Silently
Spilling earthward

hearth

wind howls
walls thump
fire crackles
soup simmers
cats curl
dog snores
and behind it all,
rock rolls ...

Fancy

He opened his mouth to sing ...
I tumbled in -
head over heels

Curtain Call

five thirty
the sun has curtsied
excusing herself
to make way for the stars

Freezeframe

Golden leaves
Rainbows
And snow

Shades of Today

The sky is steeped in azure
The sun rises honey yellow
The leaves - shades of green that blend to gold
The meadows fade to sepia
And the moon waxes blue

kittypics

Loaf the Gregarious

Dog the Adventurer

Bean the Contemplator

Interment

One baby kitty
One raspberry bush

Third

Tiny and wee

And black as can be,

With a bit of white

That showed in the night.

Born number three,

It was wait and see.

Something not right,
Yet she summoned her might.

I couldn't foresee

What she'd mean to me,

That little sprite.

I stayed hopeful and bright.

It was not to be.

She had to be free

From fetters so light.
So she reached a new height.

Now back to three,

Brothers, sisters and me.
I will think of this night
And hold her memory tight.

Third of Four
May 3, 2012-May 6, 2012

Passing

Indeed
what dark madness is this
that descends upon our fair hamlet?

wishing for anger
instead
only sadness
poignant and deep

Rest in Peace sweet Cory.

"First Tracks"

Free falling
through
folds
of
white velvet.
Whoop!

Cubes

Thinking outside the box
is akin to waking up
and putting your brain on sideways

Tenses

Our past is history.
Our present is a gift.
Oh, what luck!
Our future is an empty slate.
It's all within a moment.

Time's Gift

Our Dad.
A kind and gentle soul.
He was a father
and so much more.
A patient man
who always saw the best in everyone
and everything.
He was a steady guide through stormy seas;
both pilot
and steering star.
Dad was the one who would keep his head
when those about were losing theirs.
When we were little
he would dance with us balanced on his toes.
He would blow perfect smoke rings
as he pulled on his pipe,
and sit in comfortable, reflective silence.
Dad was an eager teacher
and a humble poet
with the inner strength of a tall pine.
He could explain the world in simple terms;
from the tiny veins in a fallen leaf,
to the inner workings of an outboard motor.
He was a quiet man who
when he spoke
we paused to listen
and we heard.
He was the loving substance that bound us.
And that beautiful Love endures.