In Honor of Spring and Frost

Or at least the last snow, still on the ground in places.

And in honor of the birthday of Robert Frost, one of my heroes. I appreciate the view of the world he showed us, with the hope in so many small things.

The Onset

Always the same, when on a fated night
At last the gathered snow lets down as white
As may be in dark woods, and with a song
It shall not make again all winter long
Of hissing on the yet uncovered ground,
I almost stumble looking up and round,
As one who overtaken by the end
Gives up his errand, and lets death descend
Upon him where he is, with nothing done
To evil, no important triumph won,
More than if life had never been begun.

Yet all the precedent is on my side:
I know that winter death has never tried
The earth but it has failed: the snow may heap
In long storms an undrifted four feet deep
As measured against maple, birch, and oak,
It cannot check the peeper’s silver croak;
And I shall see the snow all go down hill
In water of a slender April rill
That flashes tail through last year’s withered brake
And dead weeds, like a disappearing snake.
Nothing will be left white but here a birch,
And there a clump of houses with a church.

Robert Frost

In Honor of Spring and Frost

Words to Ponder

Thanks to James Gurney for these words from a fine poet.

…May your inner eye
See through the surfaces
And glean the real presence
Of everything that meets you

May your soul beautify
The desire of your eyes
That you might glimpse
The infinity that hides
In the simple sights
That seem worn
To your usual eyes.

John O’Donohue, from “For The Senses”

You might ask, where the heck have you been? Well I’ve been writing and editing. So many words. Found an ending, found a prologue and an epilogue. On re-reading found a semi-baddy was still lying. LYING – she’s still lying about what happened, I shouted at the rest until they figured it out and brought her to a deserved justice.

It’s grey and cold and winter’s not kind to painters that like to be outside, but I find writing makes it hard to do visual things and so I’ve been quiet and writing. I did get out one day mid-January to try out a new tripod and throw some paint around on a pale evening.

Also grateful to have celebrated Mom’s 90th birthday with family. A good time was had by all!

Now, bring it on February!

Words to Ponder

August, Must be Postcard Poetry Fest!

That’s a hard corner to turn, from World Watercolor Month to August Poetry Postcard Fest, but here we are day two already. Two postcards sent off already and FIVE!!!! already received!

Tonight I was pretty desperate to paint so I pulled off at Kristy’s Barn and spent time with the swallows watching the sun do its thing.

Here are all of tonight’s photos:

Sunset August 2 2019//embedr.flickr.com/assets/client-code.js

Life moves on, whether we act as cowards or heroes. Life has no other discipline to impose, if we would but realize it, than to accept life unquestioningly. Everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny, denigrate or despise, serves to defeat us in the end. What seems nasty, painful, evil, can become a source of beauty, joy, and strength, if faced with an open mind. Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such.
— Henry Miller

August, Must be Postcard Poetry Fest!

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 30 for reals

It’s 45F and misting and foggy. Since I couldn’t sit out and paint, I went for a little spin with my coffee and camera. So this:

The world’s a-song
the morning close
as cloud to hill
the green unable
to contain

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 30 for reals

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Thirty

There may be one more. Or not. This was started in the wee-small hours. I appreciate all the visitors and all the poems that were shared by the April poets!

The Last before May

Why, April,
are you so fickle?
holding back words
pelting down rain
and even snow
You’ve teased and
tossed your head
and now trees are
clouds, rolling waves
upon the hills
now green again.
But you, you dance
and sing
and wave
and go again.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Thirty

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Nine

Can’t believe it’s almost over, since it feels like I’m about to fly

Arms outstretched,
as wide as I
horizon line
air and ground
with the sun
so warm in my eyes
my head glows
while my feet
live in shadow
air and ground
Fingers spread
a small jump
let go of
gravity.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Nine

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Eight

a day arrives when
ordinary and mundane
aren’t on the agenda
I put out my hand to you
and we’re strong
for each other.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Eight