Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Drear Sky

Drear sky. Wet Earth.
A cold drizzle falls like nails.
The daylight is grey;
The green of the grass is heavy and dull.
Yet there is mystery here.

Goldfinches and chickadees flit in their hundreds
in and out of our bird feeders.
Doves bob for seeds
around the last shards of an old stump.
Cardinals and Blue Jays splash color
through the dark boles of oaks, pines, magnolia.
There is mystery everywhere here.

Leaves rattle downward through air,
stirred by a wind flying over
the quiet cup of our backyard.
Squirrels send up sentinel calls.
They sound like gossip to me.
They sound like mystery.

Dimly I become aware of another sound,
a susurration that is like breathing.
I think it a medley of moving wings,
crackling seeds, scraping claws, clicking beaks,
all set against a backdrop of water
sighing down trees.
The mystery taunts me.

There is meaning in all this.
Though I cannot fathom it.


Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

When the noise becomes a medley, that's when you need to listen...

Rachel V. Olivier said...

I like it.

Ty said...

No mystery.

It's chickens. :-)

Or at least it would be around my place.

Very nice, by the way.

Unknown said...

Love it, baby.

pattinase (abbott) said...

Some lovely images here. Thanks.

sage said...

All is a mystery... nice to see you playing around with nature!

jodi said...

Charles-Oh I think you totally 'get it'!

Charles Gramlich said...

Alex, listen closely.

Rachel, thanks.

Ty, sweet mystery of life.

Lana, thankee sweetness

Patti, glad you enjoyed.

Sage, I enjoy me some nature.

Jodi, i'm not sure I do. :)

Cloudia said...

This is probably my favorite work of yours, Charles, Ineffable.
Sussuration! Yours?

Such is the IS-ness of Life; yes,
all around us...

This really speaks to the soul.

from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral
=^..^= <3
> < } } ( ° >

Adventuresfantastic said...

Why couldn't we have read more poetry like this in school?

the walking man said...

It is a beautiful piece Charles defining well in the last verse that some things are scary and unfathomable but also a part of the natural world around us. I like this quite a lot.

Brian Miller said...

some things we are just to experience and not worry about figuring out you know...just to be in nature and alive and listen...there is mystery and there is rhythm that speaks to us deeply...

Charles Gramlich said...

Cloudia, glad you enjoyed. I wrote it while waiting for students to finish up a test. Didn't even have to make many edits after it was done.

Keith, yeah, I remember some of the less pleasant poetry from school. convinced me I didn't like poetry until in college I found different kinds.

Mark, thanks, man. I appreciate it.

Brian, yes, something to felt rather than known really.

Prashant C. Trikannad said...

Charles, I detected the poet in you long back. I liked the third stanza the best. And I hope you continue to write poetry.

BernardL said...

Enjoyed it very much, my friend.

Charles Gramlich said...

Prashant, thanks. I do write it on occassion, though it's fairly uncommon.

Bernard, thanks, man.

Ron Scheer said...

A well expressed meditation on what's all around us when we just shut up and listen. Thanks, bud.

Erik Donald France said...

I dig it ~ the awareness.

ivan said...

Meaning might be a poem falling.

Charles Gramlich said...

Ron, glad you enjoyed.

Erik, once in a while I become aware of my surroundings. Not too often. :)

Ivan, no doubt any poem attempting meaning might be 'failing'.

Riot Kitty said...

I can't either. To me, it's just cold.

Nice poem though.

Sarah Allen said...

Wow. Beautiful.

Sarah Allen
(From Sarah, With Joy>

Charles Gramlich said...

Riot kitty, I don't mind a little cold.

Sarah Allen, thanks. I appreciate that.

eric1313 said...

Nice! You have the poetic narrative down.

eric1313 said...

Nice! You have the poetic narrative down.

Charles Gramlich said...

eric1313, thanks, man!