photography – Page 8 – One Woman's Quest

Night Travels

Night lifts,
morning slipping
through blinds,
soul returning
from nightly foray,
body awakening,
a vague sense
of disconnection –
admit it,
you know this.

Great Blue Heron

Blending in
the gift of stealth
only your voice –
woodsy reed –
alerts me to your presence.

You are grey sky
and rushing waters
tall reeds and
wind-swept banks

And when my heart
beats off tempo
given to spells
of malaise
you are metronome
reseting my rhythm.

(Friday I join in with Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day. Photo from personal collection.)

Numb

Pain no longer a threat
having found numbness –
semi-permanent vacation
from insistence of
chronic battles,
this unchosen life.

(Image from personal collection)

Bald Eagle

I am in awe of the eagles who have made our neighbourhood home. To see them up close is such a blessing.

For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day, and for RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: pure/ serene.)

Canada Goose

Imitate Nature,
the guru said,
observe and learn.

Geese, I notice,
are loud, messy,
and communal.

Move slowly
without shame,
protest likewise.

Not sure I aspire
to goose-like behavior,
but balance would be good.

(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day.)

The Glimpse

Must have been the heat –
lazy August sun reaching
through Willow sway –
or maybe the laughter
bubbling up from brook –

had me so ensorcelled
I swear I saw the veil slip,
beheld faery beings –
a second of enchantment
then gone…

Harmonic Convergence

Be as trees, reaching
canopy of harmony,
gratitude implied.

(For RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: gratitude / harmony. Photo from personal collection.)

Oh, Seasons

Late August nights cool
burnt dry hues
will soon transform –
symphony of colour

There is sorrow
in Summer’s end;
Autumn’s icy breath
Winter’s warning.

Heron Reflection

Silent as the Great Blue,
Autumn hues creep
shifting the landscape
altering my mood.

Do feathers quiver
at the ensuing chill,
or is it merely human
this seasonal affect?

(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day)

Said his name was Orion,
“light of Heaven” –
starry-eyed, I succumbed
godlike presence, I believed,
could walk on water –
but his light fast flickered
squelched by insatiable ego,
only thing he walked on
was me…
Little Bear.

(Tuesdays, I share a poem from Twitter @Vjknutson. )

Category: photography