RSS

Tag Archives: Gift

Redemption Dove ~>

     Oh mourning dove, sing to me this evening in the last glow of sunset —so clear and so resound in song —with hope for me to remember what was lost, now if sought, could be found. You echo through the forest, on the edge of fields, sidewalks, and across the parks.

      I open my window wrapping myself in my sheet and blanket as I sink into my pillow. I close my eyes to hear your song. Falling asleep, I understand your repetitive melodic low-high pitched notes, as I move through age.

      I listen to sounds about my life; with its many ups and downs. Finding in your chorus, a gift of an early morning spirit, that has forgotten yesterday —woo,  WOO, wooing, into a ‘morrow, without the cloak of fear.

Large black crows in flight

carnivorous in their plight

                               landing —find new life.

 

*Please Note: …By virtue of their melancholy call, mourning doves have been fittingly named. Their distinctive “wooo-oo-oo-oo” sounds may evoke a feeling of grief over the loss of a dearly beloved.

But far from representing death, the symbolism of mourning doves gives us optimism with its spirituality. Beyond their sorrowful song is a message of life, hope, renewal and peace.

Advertisements
 

Tags: , , , ,

The Gift Of Free Will At Sunrise

      I shall not seek Thee —in a stiff collar of white or colorless turbine. Or, robes of wool…covering skin dark or light over bones disguised in cloaks of Yellow, Orange, Brown, and lest not we forget Cremora White!

      —You have no need to convince me of the fig leaf on my soul! I have acknowledged its presence. I will find its place in the empty void.

      I shall find You —by going forward and leaving me alone.

In valley below

winter thaws upcoming spring

On Holderness Road

 

 
 

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Princess Highgrass

Her long royal green stem, twenty feet high

or so it seemed, to the lawn below,

emerged from a patch

                                                            –of uncut grass.

With grace, top-heavy, carrying seeds for birth

she bends in all directions to the wind without discretion.

sometimes leaning too close to the ground!

                                                            —The ancient breeze

has to straighten her up for the wedding in fall

to disperse her seeds. As long as the wind and the mower

respect her vows of matrimony

                                                           —and miss

The patch

That keeps her Mother’s Kingdom

Season after seasons

                                                            —green.

 

Tags: , , , ,

Many Growing Seasons, Before

I Have come to a tree that has fallen and decayed

Nurturing the forest floor, leaving me with this gift,

This piece of hardened wood,

With traces of legends and resemblance.

 

I stare into this piece of healed branch,

That has lost its self-

A knot that shares its parent’s history

 

Before broken off— had grown many faces

Now left as a petrified knot generations ago;

Embossed with stories of a future prince,

From twig— many growing seasons before.

wood-knot

(Many times, I have spent turning, staring, reading this tree knot I kicked up, on one of my walks through the Open Gate Farm, do give it some attention. Oh, and the other side is just as imaginatively interesting. (Photo by: R.K. Garon))

 
20 Comments

Posted by on January 28, 2017 in Poetry

 

Tags: , , , ,

My Gift To You

     I began giving gifts, on the proper occasion, in the last few years or perhaps even, further than that, of things I have owned and have held fondly. They were meaningful to me, enjoying the memories of where and why I had them.

     Their presence… through the years, eventually faded into the bookcase or on an empty shelf, or, on top of the piano; until once a year I dusted them.

     Now, memories have assimilated into experience and knowledge. So please accept these pieces of my life that has been shared many times, as I pass on this gift of acceptance to share with you.

 

fresh pines tied in red

marks the door that welcomes gifts

in a special light

Merry Christmas to all my writer and creative friends.

 
30 Comments

Posted by on December 15, 2016 in Haibun, Poetry

 

Tags: , , ,

The Meal

The meal, whether earned or grown,  

Prepared for yourself or by another,

Is one of the greatest gifts of all.

 

Intention that turns labor into delight,

 Into anticipation, preparation,

Hurry, and timing for moments to memory.

 

Set on clean plates, in wonderful presentation

Framed with silverware and folded napkins.

 

Once eaten, will disappear into joy and satisfaction,

As all the greatest gifts, do happen.

rev:3

 
15 Comments

Posted by on November 20, 2016 in Friendship, Love, Poetry, Zen

 

Tags: , , , , , ,

White Mountain Forest

In the reflection of sunrise light,

Tipping blades of grass with tiny crystal prisms,

Clinging dewdrops

Glitter all the colors of life—

I catch my shadow in stride, until each is one.

Both! (My shadow and I) Each, both in transition

Until we find the secret peace of the forest—

I am an early morning guest

Waking, yawning, knowing

How I will be received;

With scent of pines and wild blueberry dreams—

I will see you soon, my old friend.

 

Tags: , , , , ,

 
%d bloggers like this: