Tag: wildness

The Complaining Cow

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

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My Life and the Complaining Cow
Lying on my back on my yoga mat
looking for insights on the ceiling
the way astronomers look for stars against the sky
waiting for that one instant when all will become clear.
And when the big solution arrives
there’s no band of angels announcing the coming of the answer
no star in the east, no light in the tunnel, no trumpets or gonging bells, no voice in the darkness
but here come the geese, again, and the complaining cow across the road
here’s the kiss of the fog and whispers in the shadows
here are phone calls from friends and the adoring stares of dogs,
here is unlimited biscotti,
a kiss from my sweetheart
here is my life.

©Carole Fults

The Beautiful Bindweed

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

The Beautiful Bindweed

Things That Live Forever

Planting, watering
feeding, weeding
trimming, mulching.

Still, wherever I gaze
the wilderness has escaped
and overrun my tame, well-mannered garden.

I’ve put in stone walkways –
weeds thrive in the cracks between the stones.
I dig them out, chop up their roots –
they resurrect themselves.

I throw down cardboard, cover it with compost
hoping to smother the poison ivy patch that mocks me yearly.
It dies down and then smugly grows back.

I pour poison on the noxious weeds…
they eat it up and grow on.

Bindweed strangles my basil
while clothed in the white beauty of floral adornment
as though it were a wild Morning Glory,
it’s roots ten feet under the ground
safe from the menace of my shovel.

This earth will outlive me,
as she has outlived so many others – species and ages
and she will continue to send forth weeds
through the cracks between the stones.

So this morning I only sit here
with my coffee
looking out with new admiration
at the wild things in my garden.

by caf

©Carole Fults

The Cries of WIld Things

by carole, posted in Uncategorized

Wild Things

The Cries of Wild Things

The hawk’s clear, shrill whistle – cry
cracked the stillness of the woods.
Jolted at first I didn’t know
what the sound was…..
It was like a great mournful shriek of pain,
but then the red tail flew from the trees
into the open air
over the golden fields
and shrieking and crying she made a graceful flight
into the open air
across the next two fields
and into the far off forest.
Her screams stirred deep compassion in my heart
although if her cries were pain or joy I never knew.

the cries of wild things
coyote yelps and howls
the ‘yikes’ of the little frogs,
unmelodious crow caws,
the peep of the hummingbird,
all add qualities of pleasure and poignancy
to this life of ours
if we but listen.

And in thankfulness for these gifts
I will raise my own voice
to cry for the sorrows grieved
and to sing praises for the joys celebrated
in the cries of wild things.

©Carole Fults