Mountains and Ice

Author: williamricci

  • Poem – Love

    What we have spans time, existing without place, breathing with each ray of light, captured in morning waves.

  • Poem – Driving North

    Driving north this May an early summer and the windows are closed as the heat presses against skin and our eyes squint. Green farmlands with waiting tractors, fields holding grazing cows, red barns and white houses, silos scattered across the horizon. What is this life outside the window from another time long gone except memories…

  • Poem – 92nd and Madison

    I look down from the roof over Madison Ave and watch people enter and emerge from yellow streetlights, bobbing heads and umbrellas, taxis speed near and far, the rain softens the constant chatter and the voice questioning and answering everything at once. Through 10 to 20 story buildings I see the reservoir a few blocks…

  • Poem – The Old Barn (Part 1)

    Rewrite of a poem from 5-years ago along with a new photo. The Old Barn An old abandoned barn lies on the east side of town, at the end of Baker’s road, where the tar abruptly changes to gravel, dusty this time of year as rain has been scarce and the crops are wilting. Coming…

  • Poem – Simple

    A quiet evening as the dust settles and chaos is held at bay, watching the sunset with nature’s creatures. Simple. These moments defining a life provide peace and a bit of knowledge grounding our place to and within the world.

  • Poem – Red Dust (Beyond)

    New poem from the “Beyond” series. I awake covered in red dust after the storm passed. In the depths of the crater the sun shone dimly over the edge. I see you left without me moving beyond the fractured surface. There is no blame. There is now only me. Beyond the mountains the sun rises…

  • Poem – Shadows

    Thoughts and memories buried deep in our minds originating from time so long ago and across vast distances we become lost in the numbers and mathematics, but the light and energy is seared and imprinted like a birthmark of unknown origin. And we may not know or discover this deep knowledge and history until some…

  • Poem – Flight

    Against an evening sunset and blue backdrop a pair of ravens circle, descend, and ascend a last time before landing in pine trees beginning to green as the last holds of winter give. Clinging to limbs as the winds arrive in gusts from across the lake they call to others a few trees over and…

  • Poem – Calm Waters

    April sunrise over the calm water a slow dance of light across the surface. this path now appearing after minutes lost in the subtle voice of nature opens a watery light encased portal that is my chance to leave this world.

  • If Jackson Pollock was a photographer – #15

    I imagine one his photographs might look like this:

  • John Haines – City of Orphans

    Given the current conflicts across this land and the earth, this timeless poem from the late John Haines conveys the words I have no voice for. How strange to think of those street sand vacant lots, the sandhills where we played and dug our trenches; the forts we built, the enemies we conjured to aim…

  • Poem – Across the Snowy Fields

    We walk across ths snowy fields a chance meeting yet we always knew this day would arrive. I do not know your face from dreams of a spirit walking between tall trees, always obscured and hidden. But with the song playing out here between each snowflake. I know it is you.

  • Essay – In That Moment

    Imagine what life would be from this moment forward if we moved away from the chatter and negativity our mind is swimming within and realize we are born from the stars, that all life on this planet is born from the same material and roots, and that we each have a purpose. Imagine what tomorrow…

  • Joline – Home

    “Which way home?” She asked in child’s voice. “This way, into the sun.” I replied, pointing up the slope at the muted late winter sun at the path’s end. “We all come from the sun.”

  • Poem – Morning Sky and Birds

    Early morning walk to the empty fields and the blue sky filled with birds. Wind through the trees refreshing as closed eyes cleared the mind making room for nature.