Wednesday, February 22, 2023

A Song of Color In a Doldrum World

A scarlet blur

of stillness

upon a monochrome maze

of branches

from the bare trees skirting the meadow.

The song of color

in a doldrum world

waiting for the meadow

to join him again

in vibrancy

of new life and color

of the ever-nearing Spring.

Today I went on a hike with a dear friend as snowflakes were falling all around. In the woods, the red beauty of the cardinal stood out against the white, gray and brown backdrop of the trees and meadow. The male cardinal proudly displayed his colors as a mark of vibrant life in the meadow during the winter months. It was wonderful to just pause and take in his beauty for a moment or two.

I had heard about a type of poetry called Ekphrastic. It is based off of a work of art. I knew I wanted to write about the photo of the cardinal I had taken today so I figured I would give this form a try. In this type of poem, you are supposed to describe a part of the work of art and then extend your own thoughts into its underlying story. You use your power of observation to find the hidden stories in the work of art. I enjoyed the process of writing this poem and finding a hidden story in my photo.

If you would like to more about Ekphrastic poems, visit this site:

Sunday, February 12, 2023

...Would You Tell Me?

Did you scream as fury whipped all around you?

Did anguish fill you as you were torn to pieces?

Did you weep knowing you will never be whole again?

Cause outwardly, right now,

you personify a strong warrior

surviving forces beyond your control.

Do you struggle to go on?

....would you tell me????

The other night very powerful winds whipped through my area. In the morning, when I peered out the window, a large tree limb had fallen and I could see the snapped shards of the branch. This moment in time combined with my current read, The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate:Discoveries from a Secret World by Peter Wohlleben made me pause and wonder what that tree felt like last night as the forces of Mother Nature encompassed it. My wonderings lead to the writing of this poem. 

Fortunately, most of the tree still stands proud. If the limb was not jabbed into the ground like a vertical arrow right next to it, you may not notice the destruction. The tree will continue living each day. I wonder if it struggles. It will not tell me right now. I will need to watch carefully as time moves on to see if this loss causes the tree further issues. May it be a healthy survivor for years to come.

The After Tears

The storm has rolled out, an ordinary calm carries in on its coattails. All looks right in the world until a subtle rustle  and plink-ploppi...