A mountain is a song

Maybe it’s the way that the mountains don’t make any noise that is unnerving. The path is an unsealed road, wide enough to take a tractor or small truck as needed. To our left a little river cascades down the steep terrain. It’s continuous noise is punctuated by the sound of cowbells ahead. And yet…

Molecule

Tiny molecule gripping on the yawning world. Rooted like a seed.

Dawn Cascade

I will drown gently and quietas the sound of sunlight strikes the forestuntil all movement has ceased and stillness screams.The scattering of feathers on the grounddisturb the frozen meditation of a lake’s guaranteeI will drown gently and quiet.The life is hiding, watching, waitingfor the last stars to hide in azure cloth,as the sound of sunlight…

Lilac and Star and Bird

At the time of writing it is about 40 minutes since a member of my family died; Great Grandmother to my children. Beyond the cliches of relief that her suffering was not too drawn out, beyond the knowledge that being well into her 80’s, almost all of which were vibrant and healthy, beyond all of…

Wearied by Rain

The way the mountain distorts the worldmakes me believe in gravitythe way that a falling apple cannot.I knew that apples would fall, but I never knewthat mountains would bend realityuntil they loomed like playground bullies.Cigarette burns and cut marks are best hiddenwith long sleeves and Vitamin E cream.Heal and be hurt again – that’s a…

Cool hands, rough hands

How much space do you want to fitinto your world of capes and nonsense?From the east light will pour in,or shine out, blinding.Take three steps either way, new place.New views andInfinite space.They call it 360 degreesbecause they can, not because it’s true.Do you remember what a hero looks like?Tall, or was it that you were…

Evensong Cinquain

The way the trees will start to fallbrings forth visions of starlings’ crestas though the heat of earth gave alland fell into uneasy rest,tells why the world sinks to night’s breast.

We will grieve

My Grandmother in law slipped into a coma today, and will die very soon. This poem is for this moment, and her.

Meadow Tercet

The grass so splattered with flowers and lightthat rises to touch the cloud scattered sky,remembers the caress of three months of snowIn the west the cousins of stone stretch their armsthe dredges of snow above trees and stone,the grass so splattered with flowers and light.The flanks of these hills are leaves liftedabove all else -…

3 More Contexts

As in my first post of this nature, 3 Contexts and Confessions, I wanted to share something more of myself. It’s always a tricky thing for me- I am amazed how some people bare themselves on their blogs. Not that I think I have any privacy, I’m sure it is the work of a few moments…

Dreaming/Commuting

Banana and dates mashed and then smearedinto a baby’s hair and face with chubby fistsmeans a trip to wash, and in the sing-song of running water, memory awakensof an intersection, by snowbound railway lines.Slither across in this new world to a set of double doors encapsulatingwire and wind,tear away the layers in the new found heatand stop…

Gibran on Trees

Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper, That we may record our emptiness. Khalil Gibran

Oma’s Goulash

No one cares about the story, so here’s the recipe first. If you care enough I’ll witter away aimlessly afterwards Oma’s Goulash Serves 4 1 kg gravy beef/chuck steak, diced 500g brown onions, sliced thinly 3 tbsp Sweet Paprika 1 tsp smoked paprika 300-500ml stock 1 bay leaf 1 tsp caraway seeds (toasted and ground)…

Withdrawn

Hands that tremble gently when grasping buttons threading through fields of wheat and sky. Don’t ask me – just go. How long have these leaves rested here? Take your time, feel the gravel on new shoes so tall it feels like walking upon stiltsthat wear away at the heel, as the flowers burst screaming from…

A gracious repeat

Once when she spoke her hands flew up like birdsstartled by the rising storm of her words.Her eyes would gleam like emeralds -how absurdwe feel, to see her dying soft and slow.Now she lies upright soft as fallen cloud,and weakness makes fallow what once was proud.To eat, to drink, is all but disallowed.We feel, to…