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

 

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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

In the Garden

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In the Garden

Butterfly –
from egg and caterpillar to cocoon of silk
to orange and black smear of summer
and quivering wings on Bee Balm – do you mark your age?
or do you think only of your assignment
to dance in the flowers
while we, the more evolved, fight our own metamorphosis
from cocoon of flesh to angel
arguing and resisting all the way home
to the garden.

©photo and poem by caf

Autumn Field

 

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 Autumn Field

We are autumn fruit
lying in a field
gazing at sky through lacy grasses.
Rain or sun – no matter.

Do I know you?
hidden as you are between bone and skin?

When we are done
this field will be our home
and summer fruits our children.

© photo and poem by carole fults

NOTE: This poem was first published in the Aurorean, New England’s Premier Independent Poetry Journal.Please check out their website at http://encirclepub.com/aurorean/

turkeysBy Way of Explanation

The turkey in the field
wears shades of brown feathers
in simplicity as beautiful
as a peacock’s blue iridescence,

Oh, but you say Can’t you borrow just a bit of bling
for the day?
Sure, I reply, but then my poetry might not sparkle.

 

©poem and photo by carole fults

Sign of Hope

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The Sign

a star appeared.
glowing evidence of love
brilliant radiance
from eons ago,
though nothing indicated
I was worthy.

a hope appeared.
dazzlement of mercy
gleaming possibility
dispelling the dark night sky
though nothing indicated
I deserved such generosity.

I spoke my dreams
hoping you would hear
and when you did
my hope became faith

©poem and photo by carole fults

The Pumpkins

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The Great Pumpkins

I think of you now
the farmer and the gardener
working in a field
heavily laden with bright orange melons,
loading them on wagons one by one
backs bending
many hands
careful not to break the stems.

I heard the gardener say to no one in particular
Peter, Peter Pumpkin eater
had a wife and couldn’t keep her

She cleaned off a small pumpkin and continued
put her in a pumpkin shell
and there he kept her very well

Hundreds of people came to see
what you had grown
arranged small, medium, large
the farmer stood among the magical gourds
chatting and smiling
while the gardener helped children pick just the right one,
I watched – so proud to be there –
knowing everything in the world was good.

© photo and poem by caf