Moon Flower

full moon

Moon Flower

I sat under the flower as she grew upon a vine of stars
in the night sky
her glistening white stamens
and yellow pistils
nestled among pink, purple, yellow and white softness of bloom.

Fragile
and calm in her unfolding
she offered her light to the world,
shyly, then boldly
then fully.

This blossom of the night
begins as a seed in darkness
and grows to full splendor under the sun,
a  morning glory blooming at midnight in winter,
whispers hope of spring.

©photo and poem by caf

Advertisements

She is not Gone, i said

p1120755

The Poet

Someone said the poet is dead
she was old and sick and died

But, I said, I went out
and saw her in the forest
among the trees.

No, they said,
she passed away
it’s in all the papers.

But that cannot be, I replied.
I saw her in the meadow
admiring the grasshoppers
and feeding them sugar water.

You’re wrong, they insisted.
She is no longer here.

She is not dead, I retorted
I heard her this morning
she wakened early and went to fly with the geese

Can you not hear her calling to the world
how we all belong
and live forever?

She is not gone while we remember to notice the fields
and the swans on the black river,
while we wake early to sing to the day.

She is not gone.

© poem and photo by caf

A Morning Blessing

P1090624A Morning Blessing

In morning sunlight
in early winter
when hills are browning,
with mindful breath she breathes the wind
with sacred song she woos the waters
and begs the trees and the Spirit within

bless the beasts, she whispers
the possums, porcupines, woodchucks,
the birds and bugs and worms,
bears and bobcats
gorillas and fish,
and also, humans.

Bless the plants
who in winter store holy life
in their roots
and bring it forth as
new growth in the spring.

May all beings live their lives
free from turmoil
may the Earth be always blessed
Amen.

©photo and poem by caf

In The Forest

dforest

In The Forest

In the forest
she learned a language
a new vocabulary
not of words but of winds
of light, shadow texture,
a coverlet of silence
understood by newts and lichens

The moon knows this talk
and the clouds and sky
Where her spirit’s poetry
swells in worship of fern and toad,
a tumbling of wind words,
a rush of bird speak,
the language of sight and smell and touch.

A windy ocean in the trees
Spirits descending like fog,
The forest holds her grief and joy
And shadows by the front door
have no more power.

©photo and poem by caf

 

Finding the Heart

P1000243

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 Snowy Day

snow shadows

A Snowy Day

She walked through her garden in winter
among old flowers brown and gray
sapped of green youth
and soft, tender growth.

Aged stalks moved stiffly in the frigid breeze
although their shadows on rippled snow
swayed nimbly – the only evidence of grace
remaining near their hardened bodies.

Old seed pods and husks clacked and rattled
against each other
shedding their hearts
with each gust of wind

It’s simple, she thought, someday everything comes to this
the bare beauty of a snowy day
the sharing of seeds
and gentle shadows on the snow.

© photo and poem by caf

So She Planted Sunflowers

 

P1170059

Sunflowers

It’s 25 degrees outside
cold as January is, biting winds
so today she planted Sunflower seeds.

Helianthus with the brown faces
and bright yellow rays
will soon atone for absent sun.

Lonely fields empty, frozen
garden life suspended
so today she planted Sunflower seeds.

Mostly a defiant act
their growth to be offered as proof
that winter and death do not control her heart.

© poem and photo by caf