Nature Sounds

Do you ever sit outside with eyes closed and just listen. We feast so much with our eyes that we forget we can “see” with our ears as well. Here’s the poem from my listening feast.

Nature Sounds

Nature Sounds

Close my eyes
and rock in small motion
forward, back
listening.
Beauty of nature sounds
clunking frogs are resting
giving birds and bees the sound stage.
Constant tweets and shrills, 
passing nasalization of a Mallard,
mew of catbird,
Doppler effect bee,
a bird takes flight
air compresses under his wings.
Something walks through the brush,
twig snaps,
probably a doe.
I nap
lulled by the woodsy brand of quiet
roused by engines of a hummingbird
and the splash of muskrat
navigating pond weeds.
Maybe that’s why the frogs have muted.

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Wine in the Wilderness

Last night we had a summer storm that lasted about 20 minutes. We quickly drove to the cottage, Chris is fertilize the field and me to finish my glass of wine sitting on the porch to immerse. Lovely. Here is the poem.

Wine in the Wilderness

Wine in the Wilderness

Wine in the wilderness
with the rain approaching
Feeling the pressure drop
the sky snuggle in.
Drops begin to fall on leaves and pond
sending ripples through me
Faster now
Faster
More urgent
The land-drink
Sip of wine
Wet and faster
Summer storm
Drops plunging into my glass
Faster
Louder,
Steady
Moist
My skin drinks
with the fields.
There is calm
in a storm
a kind of awe for rain
Sip of wine
I go still and feel
and breathe
and drink with the sumac
the brief summer glass.

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Midnight Wind

Sometimes waking up in the night is so wonderful. The stars, the lightning bugs, the moon, the sky…wow. This poem comes from a wind whipped wake up. Enjoy the poem and embrace those little wake-ups.

Midnight Wind

Midnight Wind

Midnight wind
horsetail tree tops
turning the moon on and off
like a light switch.
Tenacious lightning bugs flicker too
as the mottled soup of sky
churns overhead.
A night of pucker and pluck
yet no rain.
We hold on
with the birds in their nests
rocking with gusts and swells.
Land like sea
is sometimes rough
its Sirens the windchime
luring us.
We pitch and roll
and lean into the wind headfirst.
This is the best way to take on the unexpected.

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Spirit Animal Bear

This little stone bear randomly came with a book on Spirit Animals. It didn’t seem like bear was right for me until I read its meaning. My primary fear has always been a security fear. The bear is my protector. I can relax knowing she is looking out for me.

The bear is associated with the root chakra. During my years of teaching Yoga, I learned that people tend to carry tension in their jaw, neck, shoulders or hips. It is hips for me so the bear and her influence on the root chakra protect my emotional, spiritual and physical health.

Spirit Animal Bear

Spirit Animal Bear

Protection
Security
Respected boundaries
around a warm den.
Open my root wheel
emotional and spiritual self
instincts, intuition alert and alive.

Safe place to love fiercely.
Safe place to hibernate
to rest and rejuvenate.
Ever the omnivore
round and adaptive
hungry for life and love.

I rest in her defenses
open my body
open my present senses
grounded
needs met – comfort, safety, belonging
making way for playfulness and creativity.

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Restful Day

It was my favorite weather yesterday, cool, clouds with some relaxing sprinkles. Perfect to rest and recharge. Enjoy.

Restful Day

Restful Day

Listening to the rain
tap on the saw-tooth oak leaves.
Soft dapples of sound surround.
The white sky so perfect,
so ethereal.
Twerps of sweet birds
give melody to the hush of rain.
A forest lullaby
sang to me
on this drowsy day.
A break from the drill of sun
to give the land a drink,
to give me permission to be slow,
rest, and plump with green.

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Full Flower Moon

This tea wisdom inspired a poem on the full moon, the full Flower Moon of May.

Last year, I put together a protection pouch for my car. It came in handy last weekend when my car was stolen and promptly found unharmed in minutes. Thank you Marathon County Police Department. To clean and recharge with good energy the items in the pouch, it has been sitting under the full flower moon for three nights. Today it is ready to go back in my car.

Likely you are wondering what goes in a protection pouch: eggs shells, dried sage, cinnamon stick, black tourmaline, and clear quarts tied in a cloth pouch that I embroidered with a protection sigil.

It can’t hurt to have something that attracts safety. Enjoy the poem and notice the moon.

full flower moon

Full Flower Moon

Are not flowers the stars of the earth?
– Clara Lucas Balfour.

How wonderful
a misty juicy sky
holding the full flower moon
in a cradle of gray blooms

Moisture and sun and moon
to grow the stars of the earth
to open our pores and breath and eyes
vining in colors and petals
planetarium of the fields
planetarium of the soul
earth and sky our cocoon
transforming us into butterflies

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What if We Spoke in Birdsong?

I held off this poem every time the Rose-breasted Grosbeak sang through my window today because I was busy. The poem was worth the wait and a good reflection on my intent busyness. Enjoy!

Rosebreasted Grosbeak

What if We Spoke in Birdsong?

What if we spoke in birdsong
rolling notes
like the Rose-breasted Grosbeak?

What if our face shone
bright and orange
like the sunrise?

What if we grew lush green leaves
for every good deed?
or added a star
to our hair
for every kindness?

What if every day
we sang and smiled and grew
and said “thank you”?

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Though I am but a Breeze

A tired weekend of many restorative naps. Art and cooking were the activities calling to me although this little poem snuck out. Have a great new, fresh week.

Though I am but a Breeze

Though I am but a Breeze

write
to write
feet warming near the stove
cave of fire
on a rainy day
when the birds have quieted
and the green glistens slick.
I am warm and safe
and loved
for my quiet, steady presence
though I am but a breeze
passing through this place
that has stood before me
and will stand beyond me.
I lend my thoughtful scribblings
to its walls
here is where I too sleep
the good, restorative sleep.

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Forest Floor Awakens

The final poem of my Yoga, Meditation, Ayurveda retreat weekend sums up what I remembered to remember. What I know and relearned. Enjoy the poem!

Forest Floor Awakens

Forest Floor Awakens

It is the time of Trout Lillie’s
and Trillium.
The forest floor awakens
as I awaken to myself.
Self-nourish is to
connect to nature
to people
to feelings
to see instability as flow
flow as love
as presence,
turning toward life
and truth.

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Spiral Labyrinth

While this is the least attractive Labyrinth I have walked, its simple spiral and well-used center altar made it especially meditative. The gazing balls at each cardinal direction added connection with the trees. Part of my incentive to book this retreat, was to walk a Labyrinth on Labyrinth day. This one at The Christine Center, did not disappoint. Notice the reference to the Canticle of St. Francis.

Spirual Labyrinth

Spiral Labyrinth

Simple
Looping
Round and round
Artificial corners of life fall away
Crystal altar
lain with offerings
Crouching
I touch a peace coin,
rose amethyst,
heart-shaped stone.
Hard stone is nature too
with the tender wild ginger
and planted daffodils.
In the labyrinth,
we mix with nature
its patterns,
the spiral fiddlehead fern
concentric growth rings.
I become
taller
wider
unwound
just another creature.
St. Francis would approve
this reverence of the wind
Reverence of all forces and creatures.

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