Examining the intricacies
of a spider’s weaving
Marvelling as a mother raccoon
carries her babies one by one
while a bobcat prowls the tree line
Delighting in the birth of a calf
anticipating the arrival of more
Wonder and trepidation
coinciding – and I, behind
lens, am child again
wide-eyed basking
in the glorious outdoors.
It wasn’t the knowledge of stability –
chaos had the upper hand back then.
It wasn’t even that love was expressed –
unconditional an unheard of concept
It was an unspoken presence
the reassurance of rocks
the irrepressible allure
of a freshwater stream
How a child’s heart
found encouragement
in the whispering wind
solace in arbored shelter
Naturally the din of home life
overpowered this self-assured
passage, disrupted kinship
and shattered childish faith
But all that is behind now
and when I clear cluttering
thoughts, disperse static
emotions, still the heart
The rhythms are still there –
presence offering sustenance…
(Image my own)
Male mallard
once procuring
offspring, abandons
Female, charged with care
becomes a target, often
killed by next mate
I contemplate the orphans
the cruelty rendered
what purpose struggle serves.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Evening beckons
sun’s fiery glow
mocks my unrest
I am knee deep
in river’s flow
no more than
sediment beneath
human craving –
Earth’s healing
a welcome touch.
Forgive these ellipses…
mind sputters… lost
in woods… indulge
attempts of emergence…
seeking ambrosia…
within shadowy heights.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Celebrity bores
I crave sapid exchange – bird
song, sweet and tender
I am past prime – gigs dried up
but nature provides plenty.
(Image mine)
Earth plies her paintbrush
under heavy cloud cover
sun perseveres
wind carries a secret tune –
notes of change on horizon.
(Image my own)
Odd, this gift of solitude. Perched canal side, I affirm my connection to the earth, and offer thanks. Late afternoon sun casts a glow on the foliage across the way, lighting up the mirror-still water. Vibrant reflections.
Two winters ago, I fought to breathe as temperatures fell below zero. Impassible walkways trapped me indoors. Depression fought for possession. Hope struggles in imposed isolation.
“There are no absolutes in life,” a professor once told me, and I think of that now –
how just when it feels as if one sentence has been handed down, sealed, an opening appears. I am fortunate, savour the moment.
Heron’s watchful stride
invites reflection, respect –
Winter’s solitude.
(Rapture first appeared here February 2019. I offer an edited version here.
A murder of crows
observes my passage,
anchors my presence
In nature, I trust –
all else is noise.
(Visit me on Twitter for more poetry snippets. @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection.)
Full sun,
river dons an icy blue,
white banks blind,
light hits water –
bedazzled burst –
I seek an angle.
Banditry of chickadees
noisily arrives
dance their joyous jig –
too slow my lens
Movement on a bare bark
draws my focus,
a brown creeper –
I am lucky this time
delightful noonday capture.
