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)

Night Falls

 

Photo: Brian Federle, "Open Gate" Pacifica 2012

    Night falls

slowly in spring
through trees newly flush
with unfurling leaves.

     Birds rush

through swaying limbs
to newly-built nests,
to lives yet to live

as day fades
to shimmering silk
as stars gleam with
     
       celestial milk.
                                                                                                                                                                                               

The Goodness of March

Photo: S. Federle, Little Pink

The goodness of March,

rain, strong winds,

buds swelling —

the everyday

resurrection.

The tree

we planted last year

on the first anniversary

of your passing

is blooming,

its small, pink bursts

quietly exploding

in the green glow

after the storm.  

I smile to see it —

thin, wavering limbs

climbing to the sky, defiant

in the March wind.

Are you smiling too?

Cry Aloud

\

Photo Steven Federle: Conflagration at Clear Lake, 2018

A voice said, "Cry aloud!"

and I said, “But what shall I cry?”

Shall I sing to the people 

a song of spring,

hills aflame with green,

dry grass igniting 

with joy?

In darker days, 

when the high meadow fell fallow

and flowers of the valley 

dried to dust, 

I thought you'd turned

away, took your giving hands

to other lands.

Despairing, I wept, 

stung by tears

from angry Hell, 

and doubted 

your love. 

Oh, forgive me, pity your child

and make your enduring rain fall

on the riotous grass, 

on the bold crocus

and passionate 

rose.

Photo Brian Federle: On the Pacifica Path, 2014

Rockville Road

soft sweep

of gentle hills

fallow fields

famished

for black seed

worked earth

glistening

in late rain

listening

to songs of

spring

as every

narrow

furrow

waits

(20 July 2013)

First Day of Spring

doors open, ancient

hinges grind, summer’s sun grows

immanent as love

as trees, bare, bending,

tough and twisting as small buds

prepare to explode.

The Waiting

The fields are ready,
furrows made deep
for farmers’ prize seed.

Vineyards recede
into straight narrow lanes.
and twisted vines
in cruciform lines
conceal summer’s new wine.

They wait, well quenched
by winter’s rain.
Sweet tears
drench the ground with
baptismal springs,
and leafy green shade
will soon to spread
over orchard lanes.

We wait
as the moon, crescent mother
cradles her star-swollen belly,
and amorous crickets leap into the night
to sing her a waiting lullaby.

Delta Rain

Soft rain

on dark oaks

Clustered green 

curving canyons rise

to velvet crease.

Thick mists consume

stoic cattle, 

slowly climbing

verdant slopes.

Meadows gather 

new-born lakes.

Delta birds -

grebe and pensive loon,

goldeneye and pintail,

ibis and snowy egret 

slowly wade.

With flashing beak

they break

black waters.

(29 Apr. 2013)

Holy Saturday

Storms pass, winds subside
life abides.

See how the cottonwoods
spread new leaves,
fill the blank sky with
emerald sheen
as waving vines praise
the living spirit
of spring,

for soon the shrouded sun will flame
through constraining mists
and in glory rise to complete
this forgiven world
and set it free.


(16 April 2014)

March Rain

March rain, thick mists drip

from grey branches, glowing grass,

rising like fire.

Buds bursting in slow

motion, unclenched, learn to trust

that green spring will stay.

Love in Spring

My arms reach out
to embrace green hills,
to hold heart-close
spring’s pulsating thrill.

With passion flush,
and grateful tears
I gaze on the forest
for I know you are near!

I can hear your song
in the sea-borne breeze.
Your golden voice fills
green lilting trees.

Oh give me more wine!
Your grapes and your vines,
make the night sublime
with spring’s sweet life,

eternally bounding
from boundless time.

morning storm

http://www.ibiblio.org/kelly/vnc/at/pics/snowcap.jpg

bright smudge in slate clouds

violence on the mountain

morning of the storm.

Through Bright Morning I Run

Through bright morning I run,
eyes brimful with green love
as the silver world sings
of golden spring,

and through azure noon I love
how joyful psalms, bird-throated, rise
from verdant hills.

But when the long day ends,
in bright window framed
I see
your dark door.

I will not fear the velvet night.
for in the burning stars,
I see your eyes; in hushed
delta breeze,
I hear your voice
calling me.

Three Intimations

My tree is still bare 

though tender 

buds flare.

The mockingbirds know.

They fall on robins, 

fiercely cawing.

White cranes rise,

face the sun,

and flash fire.

Song of Spring

Lusty old bird squats

on branch, bends backward knees and
bawls his song of spring.