Photography

Poem – Beast

Do each of us have a monster inside
a beast we strive to hide from the
world, those close we love, and from our self?

At the end of each day
what are we truly running from?

What shadows lurk in the forest
and what shadows do we carry?

Across the fields with scattered snow
mountains rise from the earth

in spires of solid granite,
nearly featureless – how will

this barrier be overcome?

Standing at the base of the mountains
what hope I brought here

disperses on the cold wind
scouring the surface of the empty fields,
those fields I left behind years ago
when the beast chased me away.

Poem – Silent Awakening

Summer. Days of long hot sun,
the wind scorching exposed skin
and throwing sand and twigs everywhere.

Summer. Early mornings when the sun
first reaches above the pine tree tops
and the light squirms its way through
openings in the pole barn roof, tapping
on closed eyes. Slowly the whippoorwill
across the seasonal creek is heard and
the acorns hitting roof every time
the wind arrives.

Summer. Afternoon storms that build
and tower above the flight paths
of airplanes, the silent clouds
with layers of colors, various shapes,
and ever-changing patterns.

Before the storms arrive as the sky darkens,
I am serenaded by the whispering pine
and the silent awakening of not being alone,
of having a connection with the earth
and to each tree providing shelter.

Poem – Beneath the Surface

I keep it within reach
just beneath the surface.

It is always awake with eyes
open watching me and ready

to arise at the simplest command
always there beneath the surface.

Time has not soften the beast.
Time has not taken away the power.

Over and through the years
I have learned to control

when the beast arises
the appropriate moments to step aside.

Poem – Heartbeat

In the depths of winter,

when I stand as one of the white birch

when the ravens come to rest atop

silent pines and the fields calm

I finally know I am alive when I hear my heartbeat.

Poem – Rain

When my mind becomes scattered,
when each of the thoughts I held
in my core is lost to the wind,
I seek out answers and resolutions
from the natural world.

On mornings when the grey sky
covers the sun and the forest
lives in its own green exterior,
the cold air lays upon the skin,
and you know that rain is near.

Each drop a fragment of some
larger being or existence beyond
this world and my body reacts to the cold
by reassembling the core and bringing
this being back into a whole form.

Poem – The Fragments We Keep

Eyes open to the blackened sky.

I find myself on scattered rocks.

Cold waves wash over me as I struggle to remember.

Ravens call across the bay.

In the distance a portal opens and for the first time in years I feel hope.

Ravens now carry the fragments I desire to keep.

Playtime

Nothing is more sacred and meaningful
than the trust of an animal.

Nothing is a better cure for stress and anxiety
than playtime with puppies.

Poem – Existence

The dirt road lined with pine and poplar
exists in familiar land and on the map,
but standing here beneath the northern sky
as the cool wind brushes the lake,
I am without time or space.

In moments where I become aware
of my contact with the earth,
does it matter where I exist
physically when everything else
I am is scattered to the sea,
the sun, and the stars?