We’d like to show the side of the world you don’t normally see on television.
Mountain Winters can tangle with the budding Spring
In much the same way lovers might lay together
In and out, the storm darts furiously about the buds
The stronger, more intense medicine spending itself quickly
In pursuit of release
While the softer, fecund spirit opens to contain the buds
In an act of deliverance
The mountain sky invites my outstretched hand
To touch the brilliant forms dotting it
They wink and beckon me
To their rhythmic dance around Grandmother Moon
The brothers, rain and snow, are at rest
Having spent themselves into a stupor
As they slumber the stars seem to dance above Turtle Island
A lovely oneness poem. I like nature interacting as family, and your last peaceful lines.
fecund spirit was a great image sweetheart!
climbed a tree,
a Sierra tree, in a storm,
a thunder storm,
to Be close to God
near the top of a tree
in a thunderstorm
in the mountains...
it was in the spring I think
your poem reminded
I live in New Jersey
New Jersey...I confess...I was being wry-ronic...I love where I live...woods, water, wildlife...country roads take me home...good places, where good people are found...montague...ha!...Arieljoy, ya got me...who'd woulda thunk it?...if you wandered (in wonder) south from Montague on the Appalachian Trail for a long day and then dropped down into Stillwater at Fairview Lake (or you could drive south for a half-hour on rte 521) you might find me repairing a garden fence that got between a bear and a garbage can, while my wife Diane introduces our granddaughters to 150 varieties of daylilies...or if it's evening, hot-tubbing in the garden (yes, in New Jersey, where we can almost see our neighbors)...wondering what the barred owls are telling each other...wondering, as the full moon glints on the photo-voltaic panels if a bit of juice is being generated....wondering...at the irony of the stars seeming to dance above New Joisey...