Sunday, October 29, 2017

The Feast of St. Francis

Sisters of St. Francis of the Neuman Community
from "Canticle of the Sun," by St. Francis of Assisi: "Be praised, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air, and clouds and storms, and all the weather, through which you give your creatures sustenance."



Bird-song rises 
in clear, liquid waves

as golden leaves arc
twisting
to the ground.

Heavy gold
must fall.

October heat
gives way 
to winter rain,

yet inevitably life flows
like the breeze
rising from the broad sea
to the high Sierra;

grey clouds rise
and heavy snow falls.

All the living waters
give praise.


(10/4/2013 - 10/29/2017)

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Fall Leaves

Photo: Brian Federle, Camping, March 2010.

Wind-ripped leaves
cover my yard

severed flesh, leathery
fingers splayed
grip the brick walkway.

Flush winter roses
drop petals,
red shrouds cover
glistening gold veins
sundered
from ravaged trees.

Yet the trees survive.

mimicking death’s
grey angularity
oblivious to the wind,

nude limbs
lean into the howling storm
and dream of June breezes,
singing green afternoons,
the faithful thrush
thrusting new life to flight.

But for now
black clouds gather

the winter wind sings dirges
for these sacrificial leaves
nourishing the famished earth.

(11/18/2010)
re-post 10/25/2017

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Miserere

i
In October
golden days suddenly fly
as unexpected,
brutal
nights arise.

ii
You died last spring
when love seemed
to promise life
never ending.

iii
Thirty-one years before,
when I first held you,
your bright eyes
gazed on me
with wonder,
my son —
my love at first sight!

iv
But the cruelty of March
surpasses even winter’s rage.

I prayed for God’s mercy
On that bright, green day.
but bereft in my soul,
only bitter darkness
remains.

Saturday, October 21, 2017

Wildfire Close to Home



“The whole idea of compassion is based on a keen awareness of the interdependence of all these living beings, which are all part of one another, and all involved in one another. “ Thomas Merton

Night streaks the afternoon sky.

Smoke pours through trees
riots through suburban streets,
flames snarl, snap in the meadow,
the red beast
just beyond the fence.

I feel its glare
as wild heat brushes my brow.

Crossing arms, I walk
quickly, first to the corner,
then to the threatened house,
where my young neighbor
clutches her baby
and wonders
when will it be time to flee,
leave home,
abandon furniture, new carpets, tv
dreams of
safety.

We watch and wait
for the calm firemen
to arrest this marauder,
cool its rage,
restore to ordered life
this blue July day.


2012 - 2017

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Disasters of War



Iron soldiers,
astride their power,
grip swords
stand poised
wait for the order
to stain red
the innocent earth

as women,
naked bellies swollen,
watch flashing steel
steal away their children,

those
who play
at their bare feet

and those
who yet swim
in warmer pools.

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Pacifica Seawall, October


Photo: Pacifica Seawall, 4 Oct 2014, Brian Federle


We dropped by your house today
and sat in the new chairs
under the gnarled tree
and spoke of you.

We walked to the wall
that separates ocean
from land, and observed waves
rising, mighty, lunging at rocks
beneath our feet.

We spoke your name
there, to the moaning sea.

(Oct 4, 2017)

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Summer River


“It might be good to open our eyes and see.” Thomas Merton


ore’ shading trees' hanging leaves cast green sheen on waters, on the deep unbroken mirror when, rising from night it breaks lightning and draws first breath of thin air - and, discovery made, falls back into the cool watery shade.

The Whole Song


"We must learn to respond not to this or that syllable, but to the whole song." 
Thomas Merton

You say
"be not afraid,"
yet this darkness is
complete.

A well of silence lies 
beneath my feet 
as I try to feel
my way back to you.

How can I be brave
when all around me rush
rivers of anguish, tears
overflowing life’s banks?

Terror fills the sky.
In dark flashes
my sight declines,
and endless night
encroaches the edge
of vision.

Will you lift me
if I stumble 
and fall?

Oh, call softly
and with seeing
fingers I'll find 
your healing 
hands again.

(2013, 2017)

Moss Landing





Framed in darkness
Like birds in deep silence
The sky and sea breathe
In steel blue longing
Remembering the dying sun
And the cries of gulls diving.

On insubstantial sand
We watch an impossible ship
Moving and not moving
Like a silent cloud 
at the edge of the world.

I can see no men aboard
Although I know they are there. 
I know they are in steel rooms,
Warmed by twisting turbines,
Softly cursing,
Listening to the night.

The sand moves under us
As we walk to the sea.
Our steps change forever the earth.
The sea changes forever,
We change the sky with our breath
And wind-blown sand covers our feet.

Yet we move,
And for a while we walk
Away from the sea.

The sea will change.
The sky will change.
They will wait.
There’s no hurry.


In memoriam: Arthur Federle, 1978, Brian Federle, 2017

(1979. 2017)