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)

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)

Aubade: Mourning-dove

Dawn fires

the cold roses

one-

at-

a-time, 

when, with

planetary urge,

all explode to

vermillion

conflagration.

Then the cherry tree,

plain in

drab leaf,

erupts into

emerald

glory,

and high

from the bright rooftop

the mourning-dove

sings

his low, plaintive

song of 

love.

(15 June 2014)

Winter's Tree of Leaf and Bird

Winter's tree, of leaf and bird, 

of mystery stripped

silent and spare

where living glade

with leafy trunk and fragrant limb

once hid mockingbirds 

as they played

through drowsy summer's 

longest day.

But now in winter's brittle chill 

all is silent, all is still

as death works out 

his hollow will.

(28 Dec 2011)

Intricate Psalms

Photo: Brian Federle, Sun in Clouds, Hawaii 2016

Clearing the tallest

eve of the big house,

the sun overwhelms.

Then the mockingbird chants

intricate psalms —

All praise to the

lord of the sky

and with glory

fill the land!

A Warm Morning

Morning hush —

Heat builds,
leaves glitter.

Into pure silver
dissolves the shade.

Birds call
winging it
to higher, darker places,
any eve
where tattered night
may hide,

seeking retreat
from day's clear,
searing eye.

(9/2011 - 5/2018)

Crow on a Branch

Crows rise and drop

in the high redwood tree

arguing, competing

to see who would light

on the top-most limb,

as thin branches, bending

under their weight, waver

and bow

when suddenly

one raucous crow

comically falls.

Cawing, the clumsy black bird

beats out his own breeze,

and rises again

to the argument.

(10/19/2010 - 8/24/2017)

image from gohookit.blogspot.com

El Nino

Vincent Van Gogh, Wheatfield with Crows, 1890 

fill your heart

with rush of rain,

open your palms

to receive

new life

for your heart

of winter!

oh, see how

the birds

fiercely sing

my love!

(5 January 2016)

   

At the Bird-feeder

Rushing, pushing

the sparrows shove;

pulsing wings

beating the air,

all for a bounty 

of unexpected feed!

When drops two doves.

 Wings folded,

they plaintively call;

seed of plenty

gently falls.

(9 May 2015)

The Encounter

Stretched
on sun-warm carpet,
gazing out on fenced wilderness, she extends
to furthest extremity; claws reach and retract
as she clenches
padded fists.

Then
in an instant she's on all fours,
back arched, whiskered mouth grimaced to
horrible grin as she growls and spits
into the gleaming window.

Looking back,
assured by double-pane,
the bird, all feather and fearless eye,
wonders at this new, strange
creature glaring inside.

(25 Apr. 2013)

Image: Cat and Bird by Paul Klee

Survival

Glaring like a field
covered with new snow,

this incipient page waits
for my typed letters
to alight
like raucous grackles,
foraging, finding

no tender shoots,
no easy meal.

These are hard times
for those who stay close to home
never winging it
to southern lands,

these dedicated black birds,
scratching the page
for another metaphor.

Survival here is measured
in image and rhythm,
in nascent
white space.

(9 Dec. 2010)

First Day of Summer

Blue-jay crouches on the fence,

shredding a web,

looking for an easy snack.

She hops down lightly and looks at me

wondering what I am,

so silent, still,

cannot see my fingers darting,

my restless eyes

fill with her innocence,

curiosity

life,

but finding in me

no threat, no meal,

she bends backward

bony knees and leaps

again to summer’s sky.

(21 June 2013)