skin of tranquility

skin of tranquility

fragile barrier between busy-ness

and quietly being in the world

consciously brought about by will

and concentrated emptying

of distractions to focus on what is

like derm, thin envelope only

not shield of iron or woven mail

of copper or steel, but, unlike metal

living membrane that allows passage

exchange of sustenance of soul, senses

texture of the rock i sit on

smell of blue-purple violets huddling

near my left foot, imagined delicate pealing

of the lilies of the valley wafted

by placid breeze and truly heard faint

whimper of newborn cub or kitten

left long alone while mother forages

taste of earth’s renewing cycle of life

and death and enrichment of new life

skin we need to nurture to find

ourselves within the wholeness

of what finally matters over time

sound haiku

whisper if you hear

shout and lose touch with nature

listen, understand

watching dark clouds gather

  the poem reached within me

describing a tree’s cognizance

of painful damage of storm and fire

rooted as it was, unable to run away

shuddering now in expectant fear

watching dark clouds gather – thunderstorm?

or fire?                                      

kiss the ground

 watched “Kiss the Ground”

awed by the simplicity of the answer

yet again, we need to let go

of our arrogance, thinking

we know best when we have in fact

only a glimmering

let the earth do what it has done best

for millennia without our interference

live with our world as part of the whole

rather than would-be conquerors              

pale orange patch

startled to glimpse a pale orange patch

i looked up from my computer

through the venetian blinds

at the distinctive hind quarters

of an elk not twenty feet away

in my back yard

such a thick, muscular body on

dainty hooves and spindle legs

massive, long head and heavy spread

of antlers—and not alone

just then aware of the busyness

around him, i leaned to look

around the porch posts and to

the other window

six huge, powerful, wild creatures

grazing within feet of me

keeps me properly humble

my deer, my privilege

from the weeks after we moved

into our newly-built house

deer gazed into our living room

windows

they had evidently been using

our field as highway and wondered

about this contraption only partly

blocking their path and the strange

creatures inside

soon they were back, nibbling on

the sod grass we’d had laid

and now, decades later, they return

as does, singly or a gossipy group

at times with gangly offspring

grazing on weeded grass and vegetable

scraps i share

seldom a buck unless young, newly

separated from his mother

this morning dark-haunched

older ladies unabashed to taste green

blades mere feet from my window

my privilege

she raced down the path

 she raced down the path

at the edge of the wood

cleared the gate to the lower field

and was gone from my sight

i watched, hoping and afraid,

to see what pursued her

moments later, she raced

back up the path

i blinked, but nothing followed

minutes later, here she came

four slender legs

running full tilt down

and then back up

and yet a while, she sauntered

into the yard and stood

peering out over the valley

then took off, as fast as she could scamper down into the low field

and later, once again back up

i sat back, chuckling

at the doe’s exuberance

also hoping she could bring

an early spring

when white is all you see

 when white is all you see

it could be purity

or snow

or fog

or simply that you’re lost

within yourself

without the darkness

that terrifies

it could be

time to reflect

on what matters best

to pledge to orient

to something larger than yourself

that may know more

poem only template (Copy) (Copy)

interpreter

to honor Daphne Clifton, poet

daphne watches nature

captures chickadees and titmice

in their daily, eventful little lives

with gentle words of compassion

and understanding that even too busy

humans can comprehend

frugal, ingenious mama

wrangled gold, red, orange, even blue

from green, hard-working leaves

chemical plants that produce, as waste

what we vitally need to breathe

how frugal Mother Nature is

surplus from one of Her species

giving life to another

yet, as we inhale to gasp at her beauty

we ignore Her life-sustaining labor

long may She forgive us

clue of absence

haiku

how long to notice

absence of sound: crickets still

birds fearful, silent

me central

the sun rises directly east of my desk on my birthday

each year i watch the season-causing wobble as sol creeps

along my wide horizon, south for the winter warmth

and north in summer for respite from brown drought

it is like the moon’s path directly toward me across the water

i may not be the center of the universe

but I can see how some people could convince themselves they were

tall tail

tall tail

 does emerge from the tall grass at the slope of my yard

stately now, and intent on feeding

the cold mornings have heralded the coming of fall and winter

yesterday a spring-born youngster wandered onto my lawn

curious about the california quail and tin bucket until

he realized mama deer was nowhere in sight

like a child, he splayed his feetin sudden sweeps of his head to look

and bounded off into the tall grass after her

blundering

 haiku

 more research confirms

how little we know of life

yet how sure we are

even an ‘if’

 rejecting guilt does nothing to heal damage or to reverse

what we are doing to harm

even an ‘if’ i am part of what is happening

might make us aware of what we could do to help

laughing at Nature

i chuckle at how the bobcat cub saunters

through my back yard as though it were his

though he never offers to split the property tax bill

but my amusement is short-lived as i remember

Mother Nature’s taxes are matters

of life and death

mj Haiku

random acts of nature

yearly kindness renewing

our souls and spirit