Greenland

sheets of ice

cascading to the sea,

plunging in the summer sun

like kids cannon-balling into the deep end.

global warming

spawning new islands and bays,

a lush new age of water,

green-house gases rising

in a great belch

from the man's

energy binge.

But what is the cause?

Hydrocarbons burning in roaring cars?

The unseen dead rising

into the innocent stratosphere?

Jungle trees are burning

as, wild-eyed, the panther

prowls the Amazon village

hungry for her own energy fix.

We could blame it all on Fulton and Watt:

their steam-punk monsters spitting fire,

as trudging workers descend

into the industrial-grade darkness

and the misery of the money hole.

But one bright student

suggested  a more somber cause

from which there is no escape

in cap and trade.

Gaia, walking with large swings,

slings up

volcanos and glaciers and men

while, deep in her brooding, iron core,

she shrugs,

and, most inconveniently,

takes her own sweet time

smiling

as she contemplates

her next move.

(20 Oct 2013)

Simplicity of being

Photo: Brian Federle, Lanterns, 2014.

"....it is of the very essence of Christianity to face suffering and death not because they are good, not because they have meaning, but because the resurrection of Jesus has robbed them of their meaning.” 

Thomas Merton

*********

The moon fades, 

clouds enshroud stars

pale trees glare 

ensnared by winter winds 

blanching at death's edge,  

and yet you whisper 

gently in the rain, 

promise me gifts 

of disease and pain

to strip me clean

and pure again.  

O, make me

your sacrament!

pure essence,

of eternal gain.

(11 Sept. 2011: rev. 5-17-2018)

Angeles

Just before nightfall

your new leaves

softly sway

in the cool delta breeze,

your limbs glint

in flames of

a deeper shade

where rough trunk rises

from clambering vinca,

to violet fire.

Oh! Dance with the angels!

Dance with Lord

of the Trees!

His breath will stir you to passion.

His song will lull you

to sacred sleep. 

(22 April 2012)

The Obscure Sense of the Presence of God

Walking down a street, sweeping a floor, washing dishes, hoeing beans, reading a book, taking a stroll in the woods-all can be enriched with contemplation and with the obscure sense of the presence of God.    Thomas Merton. The Inner Experience: Notes on Contemplation.


I see how the evening sun lights
the high grass, trees shift in the gentle wind
and small brown birds flit between
outdoor tables as young women
reach for coffee cups
drop sweet crumbs to the rough sidewalk,
to the birds.  Intent on home-work,
office-work, they never look up
to see how the sky
deepens to darker hue;
how day will fade soon
and vermilion night set fire
to the seaward hills.

The west wind will finally drive them in,
and the grateful birds will all fly away.

I see how Your love lurks even in the weeds
that grow on the edge of the most
tended garden; hides in the cries of
the grieving mourning dove;
falls like rain in the tender,
moonless night.

(30 July 2013)

The People of the West Wind

Suisunes once lived

beneath the Twin Sisters.

Ascending beyond the vineyards and twisted oaks,

they still drift through morning mist,

and walk the sacred paths

of their fathers.

Guardian oaks still embrace the People.

Meandering branches lean low,

give clambering children

an easy climb

high to where acorns

fall in the western wind

to feed

their hungry

souls.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: 

The Suisunes people, called The People of the West Wind, lived for over 10,000 years in the area where I now live... but they nearly died out within a generation of exposure to European missionaries seeking to save their souls. They would have eluded the attention of the Spanish longer had they not given refuge to escaped mission Indians.  In 1810 several dozen of these gentle people committed  suicide rather than submit to the Spanish.

If you listen carefully in the morning breeze you can still hear their laughter.

Flow

It flows

over highways
dripping down
lamp-posts
through gutters,
pounding
storm drains,
filling
narrow lanes,
past dark houses,
past high-tension
wires, driving
through
constraining fence,
unfettered
it fills
the green hills
and rolls
through folding slough, past
low bridge and causeway,
ever lower
down to Suisun Bay,
unstoppable
like a swimmer’s blood
pulsing through throbbing vein,
reaching for Gate of Gold
to break free,
to become
one with
One.

(19 April 2011)

Evening Meditation

Our apple tree is exuberant tonight,

its white blossoms flare within emerald shades

of our big cottonwoods,

and the flashing red finch descends

busy among the bursting white flames,

when suddenly, by a small boy enraptured,

it poses as the guardian halcyon.

Love in April is like this,

measured in flashes

of red wings in trees

and scored in lines of

molten sunlight, pouring

through our knotty fence

into the silky darkness

of our star-drenched night

(4/5/2010)

North Wind

 North wind 

rushes and blusters

in the bright March sun,

scatters 

winter’s chill,

hints of the heat 

to come.

In Arching Waters

In arching waters

the black bird dances

with graceless step,

head jerks, probing soft soil,

penetrating wet grass

when rearing back primitive eyes

it raises ivory beak

and offers a shining prize,

living, writhing.

captive

to mother-sky.

(4/28/12)

Winter Tree

Photo Brian Federle: Desert Tree, Palm Springs, 2016

The winter tree 

does not move.

Its wide trunk 

plunges into graven earth, 

unseen roots, grasping hands

feel deeply the living soil,

hold firm anchorage

against the coming storm,

but rising wood, thin

though strong enough 

to paint slender lines, 

trails into purer air, 

gives shelter

to Christmas birds.

They hunch on stems, quietly

waiting to sing open 

the dawn.

(12/23/2011)

Rose at Nightfall

“God wants to know the divine goodness in us.” Thomas Merton

Red rose flames

in shade of day’s end.

Night sifts gently

through dark trees;

but the rose!

the rose yet blooms;

defies the fall

of night’s certain pall.

7/31/13

The One Thing

“Happiness consists in finding out precisely what the ‘one thing necessary’ may be, in our lives, and in gladly relinquishing all the rest. For then, by a divine paradox, we find that everything else is given us together with the one thing we needed.”  Thomas Merton

rain

falling

tenderly

on spring grass, on leaves

bending as two mourning doves moan,

beat wide their wings and brush back the sky, falling low to

dark earth. Gladly would I give it

all for a moment

in the glow

of your

eyes!

(9 April 2013)

Tahachipi

Golden heights,

dry undulations,

the etched road

flowing

to distant ridges,

to promised breakers

crashing

under the deep Pacific sky

of wide California.

Abernathy Road Roundabout

Bronze angel, strong arms

lifting the rainbow,

you stand in the center.

Our fast cars veer around

north, then east

to shop, to school,

to home

but we can’t see

what you see.

Even the truckers,

who lumber down

Abernathy Road

and enter the circle

with heady grapes

ready for press, for barrel,

for thick, green bottle

steer past you.

Our lives are scheduled over-full.

We all have

some place else to go

until unfulfilled,

we return at last

to your bright center, 

and in your embracing arms

we rest.

(16 July 2011)

Author's note:

Image: Mother Nature by Lisa Reinertson, in traffic circle at Rockville and Abernathy Roads, Suisun Valley, CA.

Out of the Silence

“Out of the silence, Light is spoken.” Thomas Merton

I walk

into the morning.

Birds

drowse

in the dark,

unseen breeze

strokes my 

arms, my bare neck,

as egrets

over the edge

of the meadow

rise

as the Holy Spirit

moans

in tones

of morning light.

(17 July 2012)