as am I bare
words and leaves take leave,
like oak leaves blown in the wind
words caught in a dry mouth
my thoughts unsung
unvisited by birdsong
or caterpillar crawl
or frog hop
or mantis prayer
I await the promise in a magnolia blossom
a rose bud
a forsythia flourish
the hydrangea knows when to be quiet
as does the dogwood
and the garden snake
I imagine lying down in the mulch at the end of Summer
and going to sleep in the Fall with the Mantis ooetheca
knowing what survives Winter will blossom come Spring
The birds will tell me when to fill their bath
and I will find a young cardinal there
peering into the kitchen window
the play is about to begin
February 23, 2014 at 9:51 pm
So lovely! Thank you!
February 23, 2014 at 9:52 pm
Oh dear, so sad, yet full of promise. 🙂
February 23, 2014 at 10:12 pm
Hi, everyone. I am so resistant in the Fall to trim back. Everything is huge and lush in the Summer and I like big almost wild looking gardens, not the trimmed-hedge kind at all. But wildness takes its toll and sooner or later major surgery has to be done and last Fall it was time.
I remember cutting off my long hair the summer between high school and collage and I felt so naked. And that was what this felt like for me.
I spent this morning cutting off deadness that didn’t survive this incredibly cold and snowy winter, knowing it is for the best. It was so warm. And sneaky. It’s not Spring. I know that. But the temperature is a trickster.
I really love the four seasons and the differences between them. But I long for Spring. And flying. And watching the birds get tossed around in the wind!
You are welcome Bipolar Nana.
Yes, Daniela Huguet Taylor. Sad…but not for long!
Eve A is it okay to have a glass of wine in the middle of hibernating? Just wondering…
February 23, 2014 at 10:22 pm
Thank goodness Eve A ‘twould be difficult to get through the Winter without a good red wine!
Love January Hymn by the Decemberists! Thank you. And love the name Decemberists. Makes sense. I’m a December baby!
February 23, 2014 at 10:23 pm
I had to say goodbye to my garden back in December, when I moved house, but I managed to save my bulbs, which I put in big pots in my new terrace outside our kitchen. And they’re all coming up! First the narcissus, then the hyacinths, and now slowly the tulips are all coming to greet the early sun.
February 23, 2014 at 10:31 pm
I love bulbs Daniela Huguet Taylor but I never seem to get around to planting them in the Fall. In pots on the terrace is a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that! Narcissus and hyacinths….I can smell them from this far away.
Now…as for tulips…they deserve a special post all their own. My favorite thing about tulips is when they are cut for vases and they droop and just start to die. To me…that is when they are the most lovely. Like a woman getting older! But then…that’s another post too!
February 23, 2014 at 10:34 pm
Tulips are my favourite flowers of all. So simple in line, so elegant. Most of my bulbs are from several years back, they grow in spring, blossom, fade, and sleep again till next springtime. 🙂
February 23, 2014 at 11:06 pm
Lovely sentiments, Giselle Minoli . I share them too! Do plant some Nandina (Heavenly Bamboo) for lots of red berries, or some red-twigged Dogwood shrubs. You won’t regret it.
February 23, 2014 at 11:21 pm
Hello Rajini Rao. Haven’t heard of either. I love bamboo. Red-twigged dogwood shrugs look lovely and we are in the right hardiness zone…but can they take direct sun in the Summer…because they would get it here that’s for sure. My traditional Dogwood tree has taken a beating the past two summer’s of heat. Poor thing. It is putting up the good fight. I am hoping that the cold has put the damper on some of Nature’s Bug Critters of the plant eating kind….
Are you getting the gardening itch, too??? So nice to hear from you.
February 23, 2014 at 11:43 pm
Slowly I awaken
To decide the exact moment of appearance.
I feel your expectant gaze upon the barren earth above.
I hear you’re sighs.
I have known your joy at my entrance…
I have known your joy when I decide to blossom.
Patience, dear lady,
I’ll be along shortly.
February 23, 2014 at 11:49 pm
Giselle Minoli . I’m going cabin crazy here. Today’s balmy weather made me even more impatient for spring. I think I hear more bird song when I wake up, so spring cannot be that far off 🙂
The Nandina is compact and well behaved (and not a bamboo at all!). Pretty leaves are reddish/pink in summer and fall. Here are some images: http://goo.gl/8POJp1
I’m not sure about the hardiness of the Dogwood.
February 23, 2014 at 11:57 pm
Ah Rick Turner that is so kind. When you do come along…I hope I have the presence of mind to be there! Timing is everything, eh? Thank you…
February 24, 2014 at 12:00 am
Glad you enjoyed Giselle Minoli. I haven’t done free-form for quite a while. What did you think? Be brutal if necessary.
February 24, 2014 at 12:04 am
BEAUTIFUL Rajini Rao. You are a woman after my own heart. The berries remind me of Pyracantha berries. We had a huge tree outside our living room in New Mexico when I was growing up. The birds would congregate in that bush and not leave for weeks. I couldn’t figure it out and then my mother told me they were drunk on the berry juice! How divine! I loved that.
It seems our feathered friends rather like a buzz on themselves!
And, Yes, it is so very weird in the Winter not have birdsong at the end of the day and to begin the day. I hear it too, now. It’s so lovely, isn’t it? I even have it outside my apartment window in New York. I feel lucky that way. It’s so very special.
I don’t think there is a poet whose words about nature are more beautiful to me than those of Galway Kinnell. For those of you who are interested, one of my favorites, When One Has Lived a Long Time Alone…
February 24, 2014 at 12:12 am
Thank you for the introduction to the works of Galway Kinnell, Giselle. I’m going to be savoring his words for some time! As for the Pyracantha, I’ve always wanted to try growing one. Now that I’ve heard about the drunken happiness of birds, I’m determined to try training it against a sunny wall. Cheers!
February 24, 2014 at 12:26 am
February 24, 2014 at 12:32 am
Galway Kinnell is extraordinary poet Rajini Rao. I had the good fortune of attending a reading of his when I was in college. You know, there are moments in time when we get introduced to certain things and they become openings into other worlds, other conversations, other ways of seeing, thinking, feeling. Such was my own introduction to Kinnell. I’ve always loved poetry so I look at it as one of those encounters that was meant to be.
Glad you liked his words.
As for Pyracantha bushes and drunken birds, Yes, rather they do sing with much abandon. I mean, if you can’t fly, why not? As a pilot now, however, I think it’s quite funny. The FAA rule is 8 hours from bottle to throttle. I wonder what it is for birds. My memory of childhood is that they stayed for weeks, sort of drinking while the drinking was good!
February 24, 2014 at 2:34 am
I would love to see no snow on my lawn. A weekend of 50 degrees has left me filled with dread over temps in the teens this week.
February 24, 2014 at 3:36 am
That’s good poetry.
February 24, 2014 at 5:55 am
I don’t mind the Winter Matthew Graybosch…it’s more the naked plants out there in the cold. I think it’s the spaces between the seasons that I’m not particularly good at. Once any given season is here, I tend to settle in. I don’t think I’m particularly good at that “Anticipation” thing. And James Barraford I get it…up there in the Arctic where you are it seems to me you’ve taken a beating these past couple of years….although I don’t necessarily think it’s any balmier where Matthew is…just a different landscape.
Thank you Bill Collins…it’s really just my thoughts of the day, and, to be honest, avoiding the blank page, something I’m sure Matthew can relate to.
What is it now? 12:55am and I’m still working. Such is the transitional life.
February 24, 2014 at 6:22 am
Mark Mcgarry I saw the bird posts on your profile page. Beautiful…the owl, the hawks…the doves? I could watch birds fly for hours on end without getting bored. My birdbath in the country is rather like a landing strip for birds, with all manner and sort of bird rivalry and pecking order and behavior and My oh My the trials and tribulations of the small vs. the large. And we think humans are complicated!
February 24, 2014 at 12:50 pm
February 25, 2014 at 4:17 pm
You,my friend are officially a major poet. If you know what I mean. That was as lovely as the ballet.
March 8, 2014 at 4:58 am
I enjoyed that.
March 8, 2014 at 3:20 pm
🙂 Tracy Shaffer.