Restlessness accompanies me
on this sojourn today – unfazed by ripe red belly of robin, or shimmering emerald of breeding merganser’s crown.
My lens seeks out decay –
rotting wood, darkened cavities, as if my soul craves reassurance that life persists even where death hovers – I need a sign
Discontent, I move on-
drive the river road snail’s pace – praying for something to shake this malaise – birds come and go, trees radiate Spring green, I pause, unmoved.
And then I spot it,
across the river, up high, a massive hulk; lens raises, adjusts, snaps, the regal hunter turns toward me regards me with ferocious intensity, does not falter on his perch – All-seeing, fearless, he is spirit-manifested, a messenger, lifting me from stagnation – momentary redemption.
first appeared here, May 2019. Image my own.) Needing a Sign
Wasted, mindless days these chains of self-reproach
Will I never reach
yearned for peace?
Carry this burden
into the wind, feet shuffling eyes skyward
observe my passage, birds offer accompaniment, sun’s warmth charms
Nature intervenes –
peace is present.
inspire whimsical thoughts – surely there are sprites frolicking amongst the mossy boughs, sheltering beneath ancient roots whose twisted tendrils rise and dip in rhythm to Earth’s pulses.
The muddied path pushes back
against my weary legs, invites me to sit awhile, wonder at the impossible heights from which birdsong flits across treetops, pinging back from unseen distances, unhindered by human progress.
Salmonberries, newly popped,
herald the seasonal shift, and I watch as a slug undulates slowly past, antennae bobbing, the black spots of its tail reptilian.
Below me, lantern-like blooms
of yellow sprout at creek’s edge their pungent aroma carried by the still chilled vernal breeze.
A red-breasted nuthatch scurries
up a neighbouring fir, while two robins flirt playfully on the rainforest floor, hopping amongst the freshly flowered trilliums, their white crowns a regal presence in this place of enchantment.
(Image my own)
Morrell Nature Sanctuary first appeared on One Woman’s Quest II in April, 2018. Morrell Nature Sanctuary is on Vancouver Island, Canada.
Wish I could converse –
one harmonic voice blended in a symphony of birdsong – but my tongue stumbles reveals me as interloper
As much as I tread softly
over forest floor, my missteps crackle, alert the denizens danger is about – no imploring can reverse the impression
Nature’s sensitivity is finely tuned
and I am urban-scented, barely tolerated, seldom trusted – must bear my reverence for this sacred space more deliberately. (Image my own)
Munificence of woods
forestalls growing angst, imminence of need
a canopy of leaves I am armoured
Tomorrow can wait.
(Image my own)
and I am at once small, insignificant
I am stillness basking in majesty
Till ubiquitous crow
calls his cronies, chases eagle off
Everything gains perspective.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Nature leaves her fingerprint
on this land; River pushes on, her perseverance a reminder that all is flow, and what feels like an ending, is indeed just a passage in time: Carry on.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Is it the stillness
of the rock pool that draws me again and again?
Authority eludes –
is not my own – I dodge hawk-eyed critics, am weighted down…struggling to resurface…
company, a chance to breathe… unseen… Nature always the key
(Image my own)
Wind carries Autumn’s song
and I am crawling out of a nightmare
Insides churning widdershins
thoughts grasping for a forward pull
Have been to the edge,
touched the volatile
Birdsong breaks solemnity
I catch a ray of light.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson
Last September, I was in hospital fighting through a life threatening condition. I penned this there. Image my own.)
Nature has a way of reminding –
even the most diehard nonbelievers – that a force, inexplicable and sacred, exists
Like an unseasonal storm unleashing hail
waking us from a deep slumber – she is a messenger, knocking
The soul answers, child reawakened,
joyous recognition that despite all theories, doctrines, and delusions
There exists a life within a life:
a great mystery that defies and keeps us ever humble.
(Revisiting old posts, I found these words.
To see the original, posted in September 2014, click here. Image my own.)