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.
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26 comments:
When the noise becomes a medley, that's when you need to listen...
I like it.
No mystery.
It's chickens. :-)
Or at least it would be around my place.
Very nice, by the way.
Love it, baby.
Some lovely images here. Thanks.
All is a mystery... nice to see you playing around with nature!
Charles-Oh I think you totally 'get it'!
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. :)
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.
ALOHA to YOU
from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral
=^..^= <3
> < } } ( ° >
Why couldn't we have read more poetry like this in school?
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.
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...
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.
Charles, I detected the poet in you long back. I liked the third stanza the best. And I hope you continue to write poetry.
Enjoyed it very much, my friend.
Prashant, thanks. I do write it on occassion, though it's fairly uncommon.
Bernard, thanks, man.
A well expressed meditation on what's all around us when we just shut up and listen. Thanks, bud.
I dig it ~ the awareness.
Meaning might be a poem falling.
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'.
I can't either. To me, it's just cold.
Nice poem though.
Wow. Beautiful.
Sarah Allen
(From Sarah, With Joy>
Riot kitty, I don't mind a little cold.
Sarah Allen, thanks. I appreciate that.
Nice! You have the poetic narrative down.
Nice! You have the poetic narrative down.
eric1313, thanks, man!
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