Nature

Nature's seduction

a feast of imagery...

Nature has always been, for me, a place to escape from the pressures of today's world; a place where I feel alive in a way that's hard to explain... More than a place, the feeling of the Earth's ebb and flow around me is a state of mind, even a faith...
Some people will know what I mean when I say this, but most will not, which is a sad thing indeed. Environmentalism may be a trendy idea today, but it will never be more than an abstract to those who don't take the time out occasionally just to experience the power of the natural world. And considering how things are shaping up, all too soon that might not be possible...

Some of these poems and ideas may not seem to be about nature, but if you look closer, you will see they are about the nature of the universe and time.

Poems

oak trees fogged with Spanish Moss
will not condescend to palm trees
(far too cheap. the tourists like them.)
but they are strangled
in thier distinction
the moss, parasitic,
chuckles

the sky breaks open
and pours itself on me
(i knew it was a liquid
swirling and changing and slow)
the rain pushes me down
fills my boots with cold
i swallow green
and breathe out grey

waiting under blue skies
for the storm to come
leaving for a promise
safety all for some

goin' 60 down the highway
singin' the words to a song I don't even know
rock'n'roll thins my blood
as I bare my teeth to the wind
a promise that summer will wait on my ending
and youth will not be forgotten

Someone's pounding on the edge of the universe
clouds pour dark into the streets
the music sobs its desolation
i still want the truth

i see blood in the sky
i see light on the water
the angry eye
the angry eye
waiting
the angry eye
the angry eye
i drive into the storm

silver leaks into the sky
not long before dawning
and the city
oh, the city
it glows golden in shadow
a fairyland
mine for the wishing
and so we pass the night
into morning

in salmon dawnlight
seems more like waiting
though treefingers
reach out of water
and whisper death

trees fade into night

blue escapes to dreams

and i am left here,

alone

under the eye

of one

      small star

and this is why
spring i love:
glorious beauty
of days warm
(but not too)
and greensong
making mornings
worth light

look out! look out!
the sky is falling
cloud-bits settle,
whitely,
over all
some chunks as big as silver dollars
threatening to smother all in softness

golden moon
just short of full
floating
high in treeshadows

if ever a morning felt
like waiting
it was this
blue and silent and misty
with no mention
of the sun

sometimes i can see
the wind,
and the world turning;
and it seems to me
that life is one

blue-silver twilight
of first snow
when ground and sky seem
one
salmon sunset
lends faint warmth
and the last birds leave

the stacatto whisper
of rain in a hard world
ice crackles on the limbs of a tree
time slides cold through the glass

bright music
pouring through
flooded with light
sound and glory

Early fall in late November;
sunlight painting green and red;
hearts alive -- I can't remember
when such laughter filled my head

feels like flying

summer on my wings

trees painted with glory

   though summer was never this free

a familiar taste of winter
orange with pumpkins
blue with rain
to feel at end of autumn
dress as gypsies
play the game

the curious optimism

   of a friday

wrapped in shrouds

   of wind and rain

the last green of the grass
in late october;
no less beautiful
for turning leaves

sunrise and birds
backlit in red dawn
leaving.

Trailing long fingers
wheat bends head before
Golden tresses tousled
A whispered caress

   and then she is gone

All is
ever and never
circling
the inner outside

where are my edges

   silver-gold washing away

wrapped in clouds

   worlds end in this

Impressions of a streetlight
Empty flicker
Cold steel
Glassy eye
Soulless light

6 a.m.

       comes too soon

grey into infinite

                   of green

The golden blood of day
pools on the bottoms of the clouds.
Crimson thinly stains the sky.
Blue-black ink seeps between the shadows.
Darkness invades the land.
Conqueror for a night.

hills up

         and downflowing

the river churning

   silvergreen satin

cloudfogged shadows

   and dewdrop

              shimmers

Quotations

Real is what everyone agrees about. True is what you somehow know inside yourself.
-----Margaret Mahy, The Other Side of Silence

"This is your life... and it's ending one minute at a time."
-----Fight Club preview

in Just-
spring   when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman

whistles   far   and wee

and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer
old balloonman whistles
far  and  wee
and bettyandisabel come dancing
from hopscotch and jump-rope and

it's
spring
and
   the
      goat-footed

balloonMan   whistles
far
and
wee

-----e. e. cummings

It Bids Pretty Fair

The play seems out for an almost infinite run.
Don't mind a little thing like the actors fighting.
The only thing I worry about is the sun.
We'll be all right if nothing goes wrong with the lighting.
-----Robert Frost

If All the Trees Were Oaks

What if all the trees were oaks,
How plain the world would seem;
No maple syrup, banana splits,
And how would orange juice be?

Wouldn't it be a boring place,
If all the people were the same;
Just one color, just one language,
Just one family name!

-But-

If the forest were the world,
And all the people were the trees;
Palm and pine, bamboo and willow,
Live and grow in harmony.

Aren't you glad, my good friend,
Different though we be;
We are here to help each other,
I learn from you, and you, from me.
-----?
Yes, I know it's cheesy beyond belief. I like it, though.

Who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand?
-----Samuel Beckett, Murphy

Physics Philosophy

We are 99 percent nothing - simply clouds of electrons pretending to be solid.
Be gentle with the universe, and it will be gentle back. Smack the universe, and it will smack you just as hard.

You know the best thing about aeroplanes? ... It's looking out of the windows at the clouds, and thinking, maybe I could go walking in there. Maybe it's a special place where everything's okay.
-----The Sandman, issue 43

We are the keepers of the earth -- don't forget it.
-----Program Aide training

And the end and the beginning
were always there
Before the beginning and
after the end.
And all is always now.
-----T. S. Eliot

Musings

life = change
change = creation
creation = art
art = life

If you're tempted to call it a coincidence, it's probably not.

One of the neat things about snow is that it lets you see the wind and the infinite depth of the sky.

How many other people see the irony in this? Trying to persuade the users of the most advanced technology we have to appreciate the glory of nature? Actually, netters seem to appreciate it the most -- maybe because of the absolute contrast against the lonely companionship of a computer screen.

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