nature – Rivers Renewed

Whispers of the Winter Wind

In the whispers of the winter wind, an early snowfall in the night,

our blue dawn revealing pine trees

embracing the beauty.

Note: I’ve been dreaming about snow lately.

Only a Thin Veil Remains

Only a thin veil remains My Love, as the sun brings warmth in the morning,

a curtain of light covering over our summer dreams,

only to reveal yellow roses in the garden,

where you and I are refreshed

by the crisp, cool air.

New Beginnings

Bumblebees hover in the early morning light,

gently tasting the sweet nectar, of purple flowers.

And I realize that healing is not far away,

in fact, very close to us,

in the wholeness of new beginnings.

He was there when the fog slowly lifted. And the doe, in her boldness walked by and looked at him from under the shade of the oak trees. She was unafraid yet watchful, knowing full well this was her home and he was intruding.

He normally came here to write, yet on this day he needed the mountains to quiet his heart. “Sit down”, the doe said, “Let the peace wash over you, only then should you start with your notebook.” She was bold but it needed to be said.

He did sit down. In fact, he did exactly as the doe said. It was at least an hour before he reached for his pad of paper.

He smiled, having his heart song, once again….

Walking through the Light of the Forest

The veil taken away that day, a thin layered curtain removed, as I walked through

the light of the forest. With peace speaking

I was able to recognize

the beauty within.

The Late Winter Winds

The bluster and power of the late winter winds told him a different story now, unlike his younger days when meeting the winds head on, spoke of courage and the ability, to press forward meeting the challenge.

Now it just meant the brutal force of cold air, chilling his bones, so he zipped up his coat a little further, and held onto his hat, as another gust tried to knock him sideways.

Each Moment with My Love

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Each moment with My Love, on the park bench, listening

to the music of water,

surrounded

by layers of leaves,

we whisper

sweet talk absorbed,

into the dogwood trees.

The Colors Will Speak to Us

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Within our survival, our wordflow can shift and change,

leaving us with a thin layer of grey,

yet the colors will speak to us….

calling forth that ancient mystery,

of poets pulling down inspiration,

from the sky.

Hope brightens

with the morning sun.

Beauty from the Earth and Sky

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In our grey of isolation green plants and blue skies

become our relatable, our tangible treasure

so that these frames of ours

these empty shells we live in,

can be filled

with who we really are

and the beauty

from the earth and sky.

In the Brilliance of the Dawn

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As ice releases its grip on the trees, bands of gold slice

through the forest, quicker than knives thrown,

it is a wonder how hawks can see

in the brilliance of the dawn,

and how the first flowers

can be so brave.

Tag: nature