I thought about snakes this morning
A convoluted ping-pong thought
Process brought me to black snakes
And then to snakes eating mice and moles
And then to the confident order of it all
Today, the daffodils and forsythia burst yellow as cherry trees bloom pink
And they broadcast “God is here”
Amidst the order and beauty.
God is the trees and flowers.
And in the swirl of man made chaos
The proof is in the greening grass
Puffy Clouds, fall leaves
Today, awash in beauty
Stomach pits remain
A few ambitious branches glow
burnt umber, crimson and a
golden shade seen on parrots
We paddle through choppy water
Most trees lining the shore cling
to late August greens, dull and
forlorn as summer winds to an end
We paddle through choppy water
Our canoe is heavy with camping things
And firewood, for flames and pondering
We paddle through choppy water
A lone loon flies low
Parallel to the water’s surface
A precise, effortless distance
There is no flapping, simply
Levitation with forward motion
Isn’t that magic?
We paddle through choppy water
Now, an island’s fancy greeting
A rocky shore with full moon rising
Laying a glistening water runway
Bathing our canoe in moonlight
A tent, an island, a sweet retreat
The river had flooded its banks that day
Swirling around tree trunks and stranding
Muddy puddles and mosquitos along our path
We jumped the puddles and swatted bugs
I walked only a step ahead under the sun
Puffy clouds floated above when we froze
Barely breathing as that electric blue dart
Whizzed then helicopter hovered over cloudy puddles
Four translucent silver wings glittering
Then eight
Two dragonflies dancing in unabashed performance
One simple moment of life affirming perfection
Standing inches apart, inhaling magic
Minutes of awe laying a path
As wide eyes absored joyful views
Drenched in nature’s excellence
Patient wanderer wrapped wooly thick and warm
The day is coming when the weight will be lifted
Your extra burden will be eased in just a minute
The buzz will terrify but the outcome’s the coolest
That’s cool “amazing” as well as cool “nearly naked”
They’ll whisk the plunder away to weave wonderful
Warmth and style and blankets and sweaters and
Wonder as your full fluffiness is memorialized
Forever
The bridge rumbled loud above our heads
As we scoured rocky Maine tidepools
Seeking starfish amidst the copious golden kelp
Flipping stones, scaling boulders, puddle jumping
Searching for life signs beneath clinging shells
Slip-sliding our way nearer the churning sea
Mist not rain dampened our slickers and
Fogged my glasses, wiping away drops while
Seeking the five pointed cherished prize
A champion photo op of the highest degree
All the time knowing while precariously climbing
The full emersion exploration is our actual joy
A tiny purple beacon
Braving winter cold
In this oddest spring
Delighting from a green
Grass sheltering nest
6:20 Saturday morning.
Warm bed in the late fall chill.
Pierre meows to come in.
Ignoring him is futile.
I rise, groggy, resolved to return.
Then, a glimmer of splendor.
Our entry glows orange.
Window peering.
A ripe peach burst sky.
A glorious greeting.
Golden sun streaks shift.
A momentary quandary.
(My camera bag is in the car)
Shocking cold bare foot dash.
Plaid flannel rustles.
Damp grass amplifies the chill.
But, the bracing beauty.
A greedy gulp of magic.
Thank you Pierre.
The naked figure is perfection in its twisted reaching
Thick solid timber creates parenthesis and crooked
Slingshot shapes arching from the enormous gnarled
Trunk squatting husky while countless tiny branches
Shoot in a thousand divers directions each striving
Wand stretching toward the enormous gray white forever
The exposed hulking giant’s adornment long overdue
Impatiently waiting overwhelming shame percolates
Longing bursting buds yearning luscious leafy green
Pining for change craggy perfection looms insufficient
Surreal white puff clouds float on the cerulean sky
Billowy dabs painted on crystal clear blue yonder
Create suspended snowy cotton balls awakening a
Dreamlike whimsy hypnotic confusion disoriented stares
This sky cannot be real with its fanciful puffiness and
Bogus sky blue hue like a heaven imagined in glorifying
Stories but no, it’s a normal April day full of regular troubles
Like any other workday christened with wondrous beauty
mannersworld 