The Pumpkin Grower

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The Pumpkin Grower
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Finding the Heart

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Finding the Heart

She stood on stones in the creek crying
Someone asked why are there tears in all this beauty?

She answered
because the creek flows
the raven croaks
the wind sings to my heart.

This flesh that grew around my spirit
wants to dance in the rain
cry in the sun
roll in grass
quiver with aspens.

Why is this?

Butterfly answers
my spirit measures travel in and out of itself
in generations
and doesn’t count the miles
or wonder why.
It only knows it must travel.

Rain tells her
Stop managing your tears,
they are the way you find your heart.

©photo and poem by caf

A Day Like This

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A Day Like This

Some days are made for gazing
long into the distance
where dusty words
are excused from stale thoughts
as your body wears a rut into a comfortable chair
by a big window overlooking a field or forest.

Some days are for ruminating, wondering
about nothing much at all
but who’s coming up the road
and why the lilacs are budding so soon
while dishes soak in the sink
and floors beg for a sweeping.

Some days never rise
but lie napping by a snoring dog
who barks between snorts
while the leash lies idle
and coat sleeves remain empty.

If such a day should come to you
tend to it as you would a sleeping child
let it relax, keep it safe
treasure it and check on it often
for such days are when your soul grows
your life’s poetry.

© photo and poem by caf

Hope

the creek

Today I saw a cow licking her newborn calf
as a kestrel killed and ate a pigeon in the tree.

Walkway cracks sport new grass
though drenched with killing spray.

The big moon rose followed by the sun
though I doubted either would shine again.

There was laughter and wings on water
though hungry guns combed the other side of the lake.

There was tenderness in the trees as I sat on stones in the creek
though the rocks felt cold and secretive.

An aging butterfly landed on my arm
harbinger of yet another metamorphosis

Her wings were hard used and frayed
but she stretched them out broadly,
if not grandly.

We sat dreaming of pollen and sweetness
until she wobbled into flight
daring me to follow

But now I am a fish in icy waters, frozen
and will only regain my wings
when the chill departs
and warmth returns to the land.

©photo and poem by caf

 

Oumaumau

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Oumaumau*
The rock – a wandering Taoist
follows the currents of space
without preset path
not caring where it travels
free of ambition
no home, no religion
enough courage to orbit no star
content to go where the stream takes it.
It borrows color from the sun
and trusts its direction from some unseen influence,
its only task to go where it is taken.
Watching Oumaumau
I see bravery
and a wish for my own heart’s path.

*Oumaumau is an asteroid recently discovered by a telescope in Hawaii as it skipped through our solar system – the first interstellar asteroid to be documented. What I find so fascinating about this asteroid is that it has no orbit – it just rides along through space unattached to anything. That caught my imagination, as most things in our universe are tied to something – but not Oumaumau. Its name means Wanderer.

©poem and photo by caf

Last Night’s Dream

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Last Night’s Dream

Moon shines on her dreams
lighting up the open closet
dust bunnies, memories stored
in bags of old clothing.

Waking, she hauls everything out
giving space for the burnished air
to wash the vacant corners
with a breath of freshening air –
Illuminated Emptiness!

© poem and photo by carole fults

At the Ocean

P1030840 (2)Sea gulls strut in rolling breakers
brilliant on sandy shore
uninformed of noisy war.
Here death occurs when it should, as it should.

She watches waving beach grasses
while arranging her response
to the anguished caught in wild fires and raging floods.
She says a prayer but can’t think on it for long.

The gulls are flying off
beach grass waves at clouds
crabs burrow in for the night,
Sunset flares as day travels on.

© photo and poem by caf