Tag Archives: Nature

Beauty and Vision

Pink lilies, green backgroundInner vision takes such priority in my life that I willingly sacrifice outer vision for it. Or I would. Who can say why my eyesight deteriorated so much between my last two eye exams? Too much time at the computer? My optometrist was surprised and concerned when he took measurements a few weeks ago. “You’re borderline for driving now,” he said, “even with your glasses on.” “Oh! Is it okay for me to drive home?” I asked. He sort of winced.

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Poems—June 2015

Mountains and mist at Machu PicchuJUN Poems

Here are some selected poems from June. They are still drafts, not final versions, so please ask permission before sharing (except by linking to this website.) Thank you. I’ve put the poems in reverse order because, really, they tell a story. That story is my dream trip to Machu Picchu Peru—what it entailed and what it meant. There are several general-topic poems thrown in as well. [Reverse order is true chronological order, compared to previous months’ entries; so actually, this month, it’s the reverse of reverse. Is that confusing or what?]



Morning light at Machu Picchu

Blue haze atmosphere at Machu Picchu


My mountain.
My fountain of dreams.

Of all earth’s places,
my epitome.

My secret wish,
long since divulged,
that still holds
secret claims on me.

My open-air cathedral.

My anyplace and everyplace
where every soul soars free.

My Ganga Ma, my Shangri La,
my sacred Bodhi Tree.

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Rain Rain Rain

Drowned DaisiesLike Fair Ophelia, the daisies are drowning.  Daisies! —the very symbol of freshness and life. Recent rains here transformed a patch of daisies into something more like a lily pond. The daisies are valiantly trying to survive—some managing to hold their heads above water; others standing no chance at all. In the nearby lake as the waters rise, fish are investigating newly expanded territories… splash, splash! … and herons are investigating the fish. Question… 

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Poems—April 2015

Sweet William in the woodsAll Poems—

These are my poems from April. There are several reasons why I included all of them rather than making selections… Including the good, bad, and ugly may help readers better understand poem creation…  None require being kept private… The variety demonstrates how poetry can serve as one’s diary, sounding board, imaginative play, spiritual practice, and therapy.  (As usual, these poems are still drafts, not final versions, so please ask for permission before sharing, except by linking to this website. Thank you.)




One day
I’m in a furious tantrum
over something.

Next day
I can’t even remember
the cause.

Each day
I learn to forget
a little quicker.

Some day
I will simply forget

Voilà! —instant peace.

[ASIDE: “Serenity now!!!” was the theme
of one Jerry Seinfeld episode that I found
impressive and insightful.]


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The Evening Tree

Sunset through trees

Winter, evening—same thing, that late phase of life. It’s a good time and I’m in it.  I walk outdoors often, listening outward and inward. Sometimes a poem comes.


I’d stopped by the evening tree
(or else was stopped below it)
when there arose in me
this deep-felt certainty:
It’s one thing to be free,
but a better thing to know it.

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Seasonal Variations

Wooden bridge planks

It’s three weeks into official winter and we’ve experienced highly fluctuating weather here in Arkansas. An early snow-and-ice storm blew through in early December. Another arrived in early January, dropping the overnight temperature to -12 degrees. Directly after that, a warm rain washed away the icy remnants and sunned the landscape with afternoon temperatures approaching the 60’s. Today’s wind—thankfully from the south—continues the recent refreshing blow-dry.

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