trees – Rivers Renewed

Light Speaking

I once saw peace peeking through the willow tree, light speaking

clearly saying to hold on, to carry hope,

to keep courage,

close

to my heart.

Autumn Birds Leaving

A particular gentleness swayed

through the tops of the trees,

in a crisp cold air

whispering,

letting me know

the autumn birds

were leaving.

Autumn Memory

We were so in love My Love, we hardly noticed

the mountain wind moving us closer,

cheeks rosy,

holding each other,

your hair all over the place

our first autumn together,

with tree limbs swaying

while we fell in love.

First kiss memories.

The Silence of Trees

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Faded eagle dreams and faded jeans, combing grey hair, boots laced and a light weight camera,

the trails call, moving my spirit beyond crows, rejecting dark wings…I become the silence of trees, and wildflowers holding bees,

where light flickers through the canopy, I seek to know, as anyone could know, the Lord God,

like I did as a young man….

in a place that peace

calls home….

Winter Shadows

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In the shadows of winter, bark becomes prominent

in diffused light

the roughness of cold air,

with vague memories

of life lived in green

we pray for the life of the sun,

to be lifted again.

Acorns

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In the grey dawn, in this time of in between,

in the silent barreness

of our woods underground

bumble bees draw close,

and chipmunks remain silent,

praying for a blanket

of snow, and to remember

where their acorns

lay hidden.

In the Silence of Trees

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In the silence of trees, a mystery held

as the leaves gently hold

our prayers until the wind

moves softly,

through the canopy.

On a Quiet Wooded Trail

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Perhaps all we really need is to lose ourselves

on a quiet wooded trail,

lifting our heads to the warm caresses

of the sun on our faces,

to fill our lungs with the air

from blue skies,

to embrace the power

and the beauty

of all that was made.

The Sweet Victory of Hope

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Each leaf takes its turn, dancing

in the sunlight, proclaiming

the sweet victory of hope

in the affirmation

of spring.

As Chipmunks Burrow a Little Deeper

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A shifting drift on the mountain ridge maneuvers

as a fresh layer of frozen white settles into the Earth.

The bluest of blue skies seems to hold in the coldness,

as chipmunks burrow

a little deeper, to escape the cold

and the watchful eyes of the hawk perched high

in the pine trees.

Category: trees