Tag: carole

Callings

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

Cape Cod Lighthouse

Callings

The light house signals boats
and when light houses cannot be seen
The fog horn calls out

Ships bells sing their presence.
Walt Whitman sang a song of himself.

Phone calls, emails, voice mails, text messages,
Bells and gongs to signal beginnings and endings
car horns, alarm clocks, whistles, sirens, buzzers
all with something to say.

Streams trickle, rivers rush, oceans roar
winds howl. Grouse drum in the bushes.

Even God is always speaking to us,
they say.
So much noise

Callings abound –
but there is only one voice my sleeping ears crave
That is the voice calling to tell me where to stand
when the kaleidoscope turns.
How to fall into place, to be aright in the chaotic template,
in the symmetrical rotation of the prism
where my own spot is
in the spin of the universe.

© photo and poem by Carole Fults

Morning on Bennett Hill

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

                    creek

 

                   Morning on Bennett Hill

It was a magical morning to be awake on Bennett Hill
The horses and cows were blowing fog from their nostrils
as geese and crows competed
for the shrouded airy currents.
The rising sun looked like a ghostly lantern
as it tried to penetrate the mysterious steam
that enfolded everything in a sheer gray woven fabric.
I heard a chorus of joy rising from the creek
and as I ran to discover the source of the song
I saw angels rising from the mist that blanketed the waters.
A gentle wind was stirring and the angels were chanting:
“Holy is the wind, Hallowed is the wind that stirs the waters
and brings us breath!”
As the breeze dispersed the mist and the sun burnt off the fog
I watched the chorus fade, still chanting.
And staring at the water I saw smiles in the waves
and heard laughter in the currents.
I took up the angel’s chant
“Holy is the wind. Hallowed is the wind that stirs the waters
and brings us breath!”
And I heard the wind reply:
“Holy is this earth. Hallowed is this Earth that calls our names
and gives us life.”
©  Photo and Poem by Carole Fults

Today I Came Looking

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

light1Today I Came Looking

Today I came to this woods looking for a poem
and this is what I found….

In the distance, in the trees
a luminescent wave of foggy sunlight is piercing everything,
delivering the energy of Life,
the love of God.

A bird floats back and forth and becomes transparent –
a foggy lamination playing in white and yellow currents
riding on the exhalation
of the breath of God.

I won’t hurry too quickly from this place.
I won’t say ‘I’ll be back tomorrow’,
For this light,this particular tantalizing light
is the face of Holiness.

by caf

©photo and poem by Carole A Fults

Summoned

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

bear

Many thanks to Carol Coogan for allowing me to use her collage for this posting.

              Summoned

She has been called by the stars
so she has come without resistance.

As she stands by the tracks
with a warm coat
and a backpack
She looks to the night sky
for the source of the whispers
that lure her on
to her greatest quest
her most wondrous adventure
her best vision
her deepest union
with her truest destiny.

The summons her soul has been waiting for,
In this moment, the journey to her own heart begins.

by caf

© collage by Carol Coogan
© poem by Carole Fults

Today A Chickadee

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

Chickadee

Today a Chickadee sat on my finger
a moment
happy not to be explained.

© Photo and poem by Carole A Fults

A Secret for You

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

robinThe Secret

This morning the sky is water tower blue and
My heart is humming as I think about all the people I love
Those who are happy
Those who are suffering
Those who are happy but struggling
As I recall the faces
I wonder if there is something – anything –
I could give that would make their lives easier, happier, freer.

One time from an upstairs window I watched a robin
bring food to his nested young
who were chanting their hunger pangs
He placed an answer in their open, squeaking mouths.
One by one he fed them and still they hollered
their bellies craving more
I envied him – he had something to give to those he loved.

Often my giving feels inadequate to the love I hold
and sometimes giving something is easier than just saying
I love you, the love word being so awkward among us.
Sometimes anonymous love is easier.

I want you to know so there is no mistake …
if I give you something –
a hug, a piece of art, an offer of assistance, a kind word,
a smile, a plant, some money …
don’t think it’s given to retrieve something else …
nor is it given like winds that blow with mighty gusts
to spin you around or blow you away.
It is given by my human heart, a soft hand and a nervous hope
that the gift will please you and make you smile.
And here is the secret – if I give you something it probably means I love you,
But I won’t spoil it by actually telling you so.

© Poem and Photo by Carole A. Fults

Azaleas and Wild Onions

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

Rhotodendron 2

Azaleas and Wild Onions

I’m in my Azalea bed digging out – again – wild onions that continue to
multiply there year after year.

When a hawk flew into the house and was killed
I buried her in this bed,
rested her on dried Sage,
planted an Azalea next to her,
placed a beautiful stone over her plot.

And the pungent wild onions grew.

When my brother died Mom and I scattered his ashes
in a hidden clearing in the woods behind her house.
We planted Azaleas to adorn the earth
next to a beautiful stone I placed on his plot.

And the pungent wild onions grew.

Sometimes the sorrowful fragrance of this planet’s progeny is just too much.
Year after year I’ve uprooted the sad scented things.
I’ve covered them over with heavy mulch – leaves and bark-
so the sun can’t warm them, I believe
so they can’t grow bigger, I think
so they can’t multiply, I hope.

Still in the spring wretchedness again grows up around the bushes of pink and purple joy.

Then I discovered I could eat them –
those tangy, tart, toothsome, taunting allium canadense .

So now, I snack on them while weeding
knowing that ants farm aphids, and flowers seduce bees
because they live in mutual symbiotic relationship.
And if I eat bitters, sweetness will by and by appear on my plate
from the soil of the One Earth
from the One Garden.
Where grow both wild onions and Azaleas.

© Poem and Photo by Carole A. Fults

Coyote Wind

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

Jan Wild Moon

Coyote Wind

Did you hear the wind last night
howling up the creek
whistling in the snowy, twig shaped shadows
of January’s full moon?

Did you see the moon
last blustering night
brazenly brightening the deep sky
dark of clouds?

One time, when the gale quieted
and all sound was frozen silent
I slipped outside in time to see
a Screech Owl fly stage front shrieking
“Wild, wild everything is wild!
Everything is wild!”

The wind rose again as I huddled under a tree
It pushed me through a tunnel
into the reckless freedom of space and adventure,
shattering the stale sameness
that orbits everyday life.
It sang a new way into being and then,
returned me to my bed, freshened,
where the barking spirit of Coyote
stalked my sleep
and dreams dripped into an awakened life.

©Carole Fults photo and poem

Angel of the Labyrinth

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

Labyrinth Angel 1

I walked the labyrinth with your hand in my pocket
and your voice on my shoulder.
Your shoes walked with me
and we saw that there are barriers in life
and you can jump them sometimes if you want,
but if you do you find yourself someplace
you were supposed to be earlier or later
but not now.
The smoothest way in or out is to follow the path
without leaping the stones, though you know you can,
until you reach the center
where the way of return is not what you think
and is unrecognizable, although it mirrors the way in.
If you don’t follow the path you could be lost in the maze.
I heard your voice say
“It takes a lot of patience, but
what else are we here to do, except follow the path to its end
where it begins again, notice what’s in our way
one foot, then the other
breathing, opening, paying attention.”
I say “I’m so happy to have you on this path with me, so glad you return when I call you, and wistful when you go.”
Tell me a truth”, I say to you
“Tell me what you’ve learned over there after you finished the labyrinth.”
“Things just are” you reply. “Just look and enjoy, there is nothing else to know.”

CAF

©Carole Fults photo and poem

You Are Sky And You Are Beautiful

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

not my clouds with caption

And the sun said……

“You are sky and you are beautiful
You are trees, birds, soil
Your name is Water and Stone
Grasses speak in whispers when they hear your voice
Wind howls with anticipation of your approach
You are the maiden of darkness
wearing the wise moon on your head
and wrapped in magical starlight.
You are sky and you are beautiful.”

CAF

©Carole Fults photo and poem