The Power of a Sunrise

Along the horizon, a

brilliant

band of orange

breaks

the darkness to a 

new day.

Rising

through pastel purples, pinks, peaches

until it fully

glows.

Flipping woe to

hope

on this beautiful

morn.

Recently, I was able to visit Tybee Island, GA.  It is a wonderful area with beautiful beaches. I am not one who usually rises early in the morning to watch the beginning of a new day but while on vacation I did this twice. 

The first time my whole family woke before 6:00 AM to make it to the beach on time. We quietly walked the block to the beach, found a seat and settled in to watch the artistic work of nature. Watching the horizon, a thin line of glowing orange was a blip on the line of purple sky that met the water. Next, an arc of golden-orange rose above the water pushing into the mix of purple and pink. Then a brilliant orange orb hung in the sky where pink met peach. Finally, the glowing yellow sun rose into the blue and a new day had begun. 

The second time I went alone on our last morning of vacation. This morning the art was a bit different but still stunningly beautiful. Dark gray clouds hovered on the edge of the gray water. No light was shining through at the designated time of sunrise. I sat patiently waiting to see if anything would change. Then as the sun reached the crest of the clouds, orange and gold illuminated the grayness. It continued to rise through a grayish haze tinted very pale pink to baby blue skies. At the end, another fantastic sunny, cornflower blue sky day had begun. 

Watching both sunrises, gave me a different start to those days. It took away any worries or concerns for the day and filled me with hope instead. Seeing the light defeat the darkness made me focus on the light in my days.  Thank you Tybee Island for this life lesson.

Waiting to Unfold

Pale pink petals waiting to unfold

playing hide-n-seek in a grove of trees 

with blossoms of magenta bold

Pale pink petals waiting to unfold

the Springtime magic they behold

their beauty and fragrance sure do please

Pale pink petals waiting to unfold

playing hide-n-seek in a copse of trees.

Last weekend was absolute perfection in my area. It was sunny and 80! So my husband had I had a lovely picnic at the park under gorgeous blooming trees. The scent of magnolias filled the air. It felt like fairies had cast their Springtime magic on the world. The air had a buzz of energy about it.

The photos I took to capture this Spring beauty fueled the Triolet poem above. A triolet is an 8 line poem. It is small and powerful.

Here is the format:

1: original line

2: original line

3: original line – end word rhymes with line 1 end word

4: repeat line 1

5: original line – end word rhymes with line 1 end word

6: original line – end word rhymes with line 2 end word

7: repeat line 1

8: repeat line 2

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: https://poetryteatime.com/blog/ekphrastic-poetry

Softly Still

A silent

visitor

knocked at night. 

Barrenness

transformed to

beautiful.

Awaking

to a world

softly still.

I have been waiting all winter for this to happen. Snow was forecasted to fall overnight. In previous weeks, I woke up excited until I looked out the window and saw brown-gray grass and barren tree limbs. But, this time, I woke to a winter wonderland! 

Glancing out the window, rooftops were dusted in white as well as the black pavement of streets. The grass was a blanket of white and the trees looked like someone had dipped them in confectioner's sugar.  Everything looked beautiful. The snow had turned our bleak gray and brownish into a world of white brightness. The flakes had softened the world. For the moment, everything was softly still. 

Poetry form: Tricube

3 stanzas with 3 lines each. Each line has 3 syllables.

As a Buffalo Bills fan, I think the #3 was on mind this week and last so it brought this poetry form to mind. 

A Silent Artist's Visit

 A silent artist

etches ice-

beauty on chilled glass. 

The winds were howling and whistling during this last winter storm. The bone-chilling cold could be heard as we huddled inside our house. The trees were swaying and bending but thankfully never breaking. The temperature plunged from 40 degrees to 7 degrees in a matter of a few hours. 

I was walking through the house checking on various things in preparation for Christmas. As I walked into the room where I was hiding gifts, I noticed some beautiful icy artwork on 2 of our windows. The crystals were aglow with red and white from the decorative lights on our trees below. The long icy lines were so thin and delicate. The smaller hash lines crossing them were of various lengths and looked like they had been carefully placed by an artist. This frosty creation in the corner of my window brought joy to a blustery, frigid, worrisome day.

Thank you Jack Frost for the magical silent visit to show me the beauty that could be found in today. 

Poetry form: Lune

The Lune is American Haiku. It is 13 syllables with 5-3-5 syllable count in 3 lines. It was first created by Robert Kelly  

Decked in Vivid Finery

Dressed in vivid finery

celebrating lives well lived-                                            

Ethereal beauty bestowed on earth.

                                                                                       

Youth has faded away.

Embracing their final days

dressed in vivid finery.

Days ticking by Spring, Summer and Fall.

Opening buds of luscious green become ruby reds

 to celebrate lives well lived.

 A grove basking in sunlight

swaying to the rhythm of the wind.

Ethereal beauty bestowed on earth.

The past weekend was a dream here in the Finger Lakes Region- 70 degrees, blue sky, and sunshine at the end of October. This alone would have brought much joy but add on to this the STUNNING colors of the trees. Looking around, ruby reds, golds, and tangerines were aglow in the sunshine. It was remarkably beautiful.

It struck me that leaves really know how to embrace their final days. They have lived their life cycle and end it by celebrating with beauty. Their last days are their glory. They dance to the music of the wind fluttering on branches until the final release. Then they do a graceful dance to their final resting place. 

Maybe nature has something to teach us again- Embrace and celebrate our aging. Live our final days in glory to cast beauty on those surrounding us. 

Oh, Glory of the Night

Oh, glory of the night

provider of brilliant autumnal light.

Giant pumpkin full circle bright

dancing on the horizon at twilight.

Moonbeam messenger that it's time to prepare

before coldness arrives, sure to ensnare.

Your mysterious beauty shines so rare

that all of the earth does heavenly stare.

This past weekend I was on a drive home when I caught a glimpse of a HUGE, brilliant full moon. It looked like it was resting in the branches of the trees just at the top of the horizon. It was playing Hide-n-Seek with the passing gray clouds. When it would be peek through an opening, it glowed so bright. I saw moonbeams streaming through the clouds. I have never seen this before. It was really beautiful. It made my travels along a long flat road very exciting. When it would it pop out next?   It filled me with such joy!  

I knew that it was going to be the inspiration for a poem. Immediately the form of poetry popped into my head- an ode. I needed to praise this extraordinary moon. 

I learned later that this moon is called the Hunter's Moon. It is the first full moon after the autumnal equinox. It marks the arrival of the colder months. Farmers used it as a signal to prepare for the chilly months ahead. The moon appears larger than full moons in the summer months and lingers low on the horizon. It may have an orangish tint.

I am filled with gratitude that I was able to observe this year's Hunter's Moon for a few hours. It was absolutely stunning!

Poetic form: Ode

** The photo does not do justice to the true beauty of the moon that night.**

Oh, My Smallness

Majestic mountains

soar miles to a summit crowned by clouds.

Oh, my smallness in this world 

- a mere pebble.

Immense glacial walls

sculpt the land for ten thousands of years.

Oh, my smallness in this world

-a mere millisecond.

Pure awesomeness of God’s creation

accentuates my humble humanness.

Oh, my smallness in this world

- a mere inhabitant.

I recently had the privilege to sail Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve. As I sailed farther and farther into the bay, I realized my smallness in comparison to the ultimate grandness surrounding me. The Park Ranger accompanying our ship made a comment about how we were sailing back in time. I felt this way as we passed mountains and glaciers that have been part of this Earth for more years than I can imagine. This was pure wilderness as no humans inhabit this area. There was a quiet hush as many passengers stood in silence honoring the amazingness around us. 

As humans, we believe that we are the BIG thing on this planet. More important than anything else on our Earth. But, being here makes you notice how small we really are. The Earth can survive without us and will continue on past our smudge of a lifetime.  We should be humbled by      this and take care of our planet that provides for our lives. 

Resurrect Your Beauty, Pronounce it Proudly

                                          How to Be a Water Lily                                                                          

                                            

Water-dwelling majestic flower,
Command notice.
Do not be demure in your splendor.

You are not a one trick pony.
You are more than starry beauty afloat.

Reborn annually from your winter home of pond muck.
Change hues as your blooms mature.
Provide shade to cool water and slow growth of algae.
Shelter fish beneath your leaves from eyes of prey. 

Close at darkness.
Reopen at dawn.
Resurrect your beauty and pronounce it proudly.

The other morning I went kayaking at a local spot that I frequent often. This time my local pond had a surprise for me. As I slid my kayak into the water and began paddling, I looked up and saw water lilies in bloom all around the pond. I have never seen this many water lilies in bloom at one time! Such beauty surrounding me! The edge of the circumference was dotted with white flowers all the way around.  

Water lilies are one of my favorite flowers. They offer quiet beauty to their watery environment. I love to row as close as I can to them without disturbing the water, leaves or petals and just take time to observe their beauty. This was a very slow paddle as I maneuvered through the collections of water lilies and caught them at different points of blooming. Such a morning delight!

Poetry form: How to Be a ….

Fuchsia Whispered Wows

 A palette of colors 

awaits

the tip of Mother Nature’s paintbrush.

A dip into fuchsia pulls color across the sky.

Next orange sherbet spills across the atmospheric canvas.

A deep lavender dabbles cloud streaks,

as a faint baby girl pink tops off the sky.

A day-glo orange orb

sinks 

through the colors of this evening’s 

composition.

A crowd of people stood silently on the beach watching the sun sink into the waters of the bay. An utterly amazing fuchsia shade glowed underneath dark lavender clouds. You could hear whispered wows spreading through the crowd as everyone absorbed this beauty. 

I have seen many sunsets in my lifetime but this one was so unique. This sunset over the bay at Dewey Beach had colors like I had never seen before. It seemed almost incomprehensible that the sky was this ablaze with such a vibrant pink. My phone’s camera could not capture the colors’ vibrancy. It did not even come close! I just needed to stand there and soak it in so my mind would be able to pull it up as a treasured memory of this year’s vacation. 

The Moon Did Play

 

The moon came out to enjoy the day.

Amongst the cotton-candy sunset, he did play.

Glowing brightly, catching his friend’s ray,

Then tossing it back, his celestial talent was on display.

So tonight I caught a poem. I was sitting in my backyard when I turned around for a second and noticed the half moon glowing in the daylight sky. A thought popped into my head-“ The moon came out to enjoy the day.” Then the next rhyming line just flowed. I was not intending to write a poem but I immediately grabbed my journal and started writing. The words just flowed out. I love when this happens! Such a great way to end this lovely summer night.  

Honestly, in my opinion, today was the perfect summer day. It was a glorious blue sky, full sunshine, no humidity, high 70 degree day. The moon had the right idea. Who wouldn’t want to play and enjoy this gift of a day. 

Repeating….Repeating….Repeating

Silently rolling,

        and growing,

                    CRESTING,

        crashing, roaring

    retreating,

repeating…

                            Silently rolling,

                                   and growing,

                                              CRESTING,

                                   crashing, roaring

                                retreating,

                            repeating…                   

Silently rolling,

        and growing,

                    CRESTING,

        crashing, roaring

    retreating,

repeating…

                            Silently rolling,

                                   and growing,

                                                CRESTING,

                                    crashing, roaring,

                                 retreating,

                            repeating…

repeating…

                    repeating…

                                        repeating…

                                                          repeating…..

While on vacation at the beach, I was mesmerized by the beauty and music of the waves. They are so meditative with the continuous repetition of building, crashing and retreating. There are small moments of silence right before the next breaking roar of the oncoming waves. Sitting in the sun, watching the sunlight dance on the highest peaks of the waves was pure beauty. The water looked bedazzled! Each wave seemed to wash ashore more and more peace and relaxation and pull the worries and stress back out to the sea. So grateful for these days of relaxing by the ocean.

With my poem,  I tired to capture that meditative feeling through the use of repetition so I can carry this moment with me when I am away from the ocean. 

To Thwart the Heaviness

 

Diverse-

Yet clinging to one another

To thwart the heaviness,

And offer a clear lens

With a new perspective 

Of our topsy-turvy world. 

It had been a very rainy morning. I glanced out my window and saw raindrops clinging on to the ends of leaves and flowers like they were fighting to not let go. It seemed liked they wanted to still exist as raindrops and not just soak into the soil below.

This clinging of raindrops made me wonder how they stay on the delicate petals and pointy leaves without just falling. I did some research and found out the following:

1. Do to adhesion which counteracts gravity, the water molecules cling to another dissimilar surface.

2. Often instead of a perfect circle, you will find dome-shaped drops due to the texture of the material they are adhering to as well as the angle.

3. These globes of water are wonderful crystal clear lenses with inverted images.

In taking the time to slow down, notice and think about the beauty after the gloom, I realized that these little raindrops have a lesson for the world. Given the heaviness that is all around us, should we not join together and support each other through the negative forces in our world. By embracing the diversity of our human race, we will gain different perspectives and possibly see things in new ways. Maybe if we were more like raindrops forming attachments to surfaces different than our own, this topsy-turvy world could find some peace. 

Master of Survival

 

How to Be a Dandelion

Be a master of survival.

Bring beauty to unexpected places.

Don’t surrender because not all see your worth. 

Settle into cracks, crevices and crusty soil.

Send down strong roots and spiky, green leaves up.

Don’t cower in these unknown places.

Bloom bursts of sunshine.

Stand strong and proud.

Don’t hide in the shadows.

Die valiantly golden warrior.

Carry wishes on the breeze.

Do celebrate seeds of hope.

 The other day it was actually sunny and warm so I decided to soak up some sun while doing backyard yoga. While laying on my yoga mat, I gazed across my lawn that was sprinkled with golden confetti. The dandelions were in full bloom celebrating a beautiful spring day. The vibrant yellow splashed against bright green grass was joyful.

I realize that not everyone values dandelions. I honestly do enjoy them. I admire how they grow in unexpected places like cracks in the sidewalk. I view them as wildflowers and not weeds and welcome their sunny faces in my yard or gardens. And even as an adult, I like to make wishes as I blow their fluffy white seeds into the air.

Next time you see dandelions, take the time to notice the beauty they bring to the world.

Poetry form: How to Be….

Grazing for Spring

 

Green buds open,

paper petals

pepper the sky-

morsel of Spring.

Golden clusters,

constellation

of vibrant stars-

morsel of Spring.

Rising green waves

cresting over

dead leaf litter-

morsel of Spring.

Petite sunshines

climbing rock walls,

wishes to come-

morsel of Spring. 

It has been a gray, cold April here. The other day was sunny (still cool)but I was beckoned outside. As I walked, I noticed small notions of Spring. I was grazing to remind myself that Spring really is here and days of warmth and sunshine are near.  I was filling myself with images of a variety of leaves poking through brown dead leaves, flowers blooming and trees buds opening. Each time I spotted a new sign more joy and hope filled me. At the end of the walk, I felt full of energy. I was so thankful that nature fed my soul today.

Poetry form:  4 X 4 ( 4 syllables, 4 lines and 4 stanzas)

Refracted and Reflected Hope

Refracted and reflected sunbeams      

Arcing delicately across the grumpy, grayness

Instant bursts of magical color

Nature’s way of making humans stop, stare and smile

Bride of rain

Offering hope

Worried world remember the promise of God

I had the pure delight the other night of seeing a large rainbow after a couple of days of grayness. I was driving home through changing weather- big, plonking raindrops one minute and then the next bright sunshine through some puffy white clouds. In my head  I whispered, “Could there be a rainbow?”. Then I came around a bend in the road and saw the beam of colors gloriously in front of me.  Instantly, I smiled and felt joyful. I grabbed my phone and tried to grab a photo before it disappeared (I was not driving). When I arrived home, all over social media were similar photos of this rainbow. This phenomenon of nature delivers moments of bliss to those who observe it. They also offer hope of beauty after darkness. Rainbows help keep our awe of this world alive. 

Patch of Joy

 

Green,

gold,

petite

blooms open

unexpectedly-

Leprechaun nature trickery

I had some luck of the Irish this St. Patrick’s Day. Upon arriving home, I glanced out the windows to my backyard and found my own pot of gold! The back quarter of my yard was filled with these lovely petite yellow blooms. 

This morning there had been nothing but brown and gray out these same windows. The sun and warmth worked their magic during my school day bringing forth this treasure. This goldenness filled the yard and myself with joy.  Spring is coming soon was their announcement. 

(I do believe this is the earliest I have seen them over the years.)

Flowers: Winter Aconite - even though they bloom in early spring. They are honey-scented upward-facing flowers that carpet the ground in shimmering gold. The flowers range in height from 3”-6”.  They are deer resistant which works well for my yard. 

Poem: Fibonacci Poem 

A six line poem that follows the Fibonacci sequence for syllables in each line (1,1, 2, 3, 5, 8)

Thank you to Leigh Anne Eck and Time to Write for sharing this form with me and allowing me to play around with it at our writing party. 

Wondering When the Last Will Be

Each moment in your presence now,

I collect in my being

wondering when the last will be.

Joyful love always existed 

but I am awestruck

each moment in your presence now.

All that you are and bring to this world

quiet beauty, brightness, persistence

I collect in  my being

Is this the last long embrace of all held dear

or can I anticipate a soon return-

wondering when the last will be.

It is almost mid-March and a big snowfall happened during the darkness of night. The world was once again quietly turned into a stunning winter masterpiece. Trees looked like they were dipped in sugar and stood upright in a fluffy blanket of white. It really is beautiful but immediately I started wondering if this is the last time this will happen as each day we inch towards spring. I know that there are many people where I live who are tired of snow and probably felt sick looking out the window this morning. I on the other hand wondered over the possibility of the last embrace of winter and wanting to treasure this beauty that only exists during winter months. 

Besides pondering the end of fluffy white snowflakes, I am also walking through feelings of seeing my oldest merge into full adulthood and getting ready to leave his childhood home. He graduates from college in a few months and is searching for jobs in various states and cities. I am so proud of all he has accomplished but am soaking up each and every moment with him because I do not know how soon he may be moving away and not for just a semester. 

These words flowed out early in the morning. I am not sure which refer to winter and which refer to my son. The words could truly relate to both of them and maybe the focus shifts between them in various lines of the poem. But either way, I will be cherishing the moments in both situations and wondering if this is the last time for now. 

Poetry Form: Cascade

 For the cascade poem, a poet takes each line from the first stanza of a poem and makes those the final lines of each stanza afterward. 

A Poetic Round of Seasons

The summons-

winter wildflowers

waterfalls frozen in a moment.                                 

                

The birds SANG!-

two season intertwine

guardians of Spring's door.

Skyscrapers in the woods-

dance of joy

Spring serenade.

Small masterpieces-

golden warrior

the knowledge of trees.

Love in the lilacs-

Comforting coo

Beauty, gratitude, peace.

                                                                                                           Ombre blue-

innocence

stillness' illusion.

Summer lights-

embrace or wither

a square of sunshine

jewels of a storm.

Flowers= memories and smiles-

some love for shade

am I that acorn?

Caught in a glance-

beams of heaven

summer slips to September.                                                                                                               

Reiterate wishes-

behold the beauty

nature= truly me.

The beauty in an ending-

fading mask

maturing to let go.

Bathing in a forest-

beautiful or horrific?

shining delight- December sunlight.

                                                                                                    

A whispered wish-

triggered transformation

accumulating quiet.

                                                                                                        Beautiful winter blues-

a cry unfrozen

a poetic round of seasons.

I honestly can't believe that I have been posting to this blog for a year. The first post was February 15, 2021. I have walked and written through all four seasons. I hoped to have captured the beauty that nature possesses during the changing seasons in my words and photos. 

The above poem is a Found poem.  I just took the titles of my blog posts in order and the above poem is the result. I was surprised at how well the titles could flow from one to the other- well,except- Am I that acorn?

I want say thank you to...

• you, the reader. I hope you have enjoyed the posts and experiencing the awe the can be found in nature.
• Jen Knight Laffin for inviting me to Time to Write and Teach Write. You made me be able to say- I AM A WRITER! Your coaching was so valuable to me. It made me be able to put my words out into the world.
• Donnetta Norris and Teach Write for offering courses that helped me develop as a writer and specifically how to begin a blog. Donnetta - you were a wonderful teacher!
• Greg and Felicia for going on hikes with me in all types of weather. 

Thank you for reading through a year. I hope that you will continue to check in with this blog. I will keep walking, writing and sharing. 

A Cry Unfrozen

 

Another's light spurs warmth from within

Unfreezing and changing hardness

to quiet tears traversing

the formed frigid facade

of rippled shadows

along the path

to release...

freedom

.

.

.

drops

The sun was glinting off the icicles hanging in front of my window. The rays touched them bringing light as well as shadows. They were frozen beauty. As I watched, I noticed that small drops of water, maybe snow tears, were gliding down the edge of the icicle with all of its bumps, ripples and slopes. As the drops reached the tip, they clung for a moment almost afraid to let go and plunge into the unknown. Then there was the release and freedom for a few moments in freefall. 

As I watched, it struck me that we are like icicles in the sun. We may show a tough skin to the world but when another's kindness or compassion touches us, we soften a bit. Sharing their warmth, through even the smallest act or just the right words, warms us from within. This kindness can free tears that travel down our faces but also flow through the path of hardness created by hurt. Often these tears can be cathartic. After those tears dry, a new feeling of freedom or hope fills us. 

I know that I have definitely experienced this many times in my years. Thank you to those who have been the warmth to help ease my hardened heart. 

Poetry Form: Nonet - a 9 line poem that has 9 syllables in the first line, 8 syllable in the 2nd line and so on. The last line contains 1 syllable.