In an atmosphere continually fraught
I seek clarity.
Who am I and what am I here for?
Why must we endure seemingly endless days
under clouds and rain, deprived of
the nurturing sun?
What is the purpose of ongoing wars
and other violence throughout the world?
Some days, it seems more than I can bear.
Then, a cardinal alights to feed outside my window.
A stranger on the street smiles my way
and the laughter of a child arrives
on a passing breeze.
I remember to seek balance
and begin again.
Carol watched the glass fall. It slid from her fingers and descended past the counter’s edge, past her swelling belly and swollen ankles to crash on the kitchen’s tile floor. The hand that had recently held the glass fluttered up to touch her face, as though affirming that it was still there. It hadn’t suddenly changed like everything else that she thought she knew.
She eased herself down to a crouch and began collecting the
chunks and shards resting in puddles of once sparkling water. She carefully
laid them in her hand, one by one, until she’d gathered them all. There was no
way to restore the glass to its original condition, much like her life.
Stepping over the water she walked to the trash bin and
dumped the glass inside. The last piece to slide from her hand left a thin
scratch, quickly rimmed with red. She might not escape this situation
unchanged, but perhaps she would become more distinct, sharper in some way.
Only time would tell.
Maple
draped in her finest
Undressed slowly by
the northern wind
slender branches reaching up
Costumed children with
blooming cheeks
shriek round and round
seeing candy and treats
knowing they’ll return to warmth
I have several bird feeders situated outside my office window. During the spring and summer, there are hummingbird feeders, oriole feeders, and a seed feeder. During the fall, we switch out the hummingbird and oriole feeders for suet.
The bluejays stage in the trees surrounding our yard,
waiting for my husband to toss a handful
of peanuts onto our deck. Not technically a feeder, but part of the avian
feeding system he has devised. They fly in one at a time to snatch the nuts with
nimble efficiency from the deck floor and flit away as the next dives in. I
wonder who choreographs this feeding ballet.
The red-bellied woodpecker comes to feed alone. Occasionally
I will see him perched on the weathered wooden seed feeder, but most of the
time, he favors the suet. His balance seems precarious as he grabs the wire
surrounding the suet with his feet and bends his body to peck at the suet, but
he is well practiced and has a firm grip.
During the winter we sometimes get other woodpeckers,
chickadees, juncos, mourning doves, finches, sparrows, and more. It always
brightens my day to watch their entertaining behavior at and around the
feeders.
On my drive this morning,
I passed a family of sandhills cranes
congregating at the side of the road.
A bald eagle soared high above
and a hawk flew straight and low.
A group of turkey vultures spiraled
above a stand of trees.
Alone in my car rushing down
asphalt highways, I marveled
at nature in action.
She sashays to
a waltz wafting on
the western wind
Across moonlit
marsh
above placid pond
over roiling river
She dances past dawn
softening the sunrise and
hushing the waking world
