Silent Objections

The calm water reflects the cold
morning sky coming on-line.

Pierced by raven calls and lulled
by rolling waves.

Fragments I carried here
begin to slip into the water.

The cold and water I have come to embrace
as years have passed, has not changed.

The same stones mark the way to an ice covered shoreline
and that tree has become a beacon and marker.

I don’t know if this is home,
I don’t know if the water remembers me.

I take comfort in the thought, that when I pass
some fragment of myself will still linger,

riding waves or falling into the depths,
merging with the sea.

So I release my doubt and stop silent objections
knowing the sea will care for me.

Tree on Cliff

We have been visiting this location on Lake Superior for 10-years. Through every season and every weather pattern.

Regardless of what is happening and going on around me, I always come back to that tree.

On the cliff above the turbulent waters, standing tall against the wind, drenched in summer rain, or encased in ice.

A beacon in the frequent storms, a symbol, resilient, always there waiting when we arrive.

I am not clear or aware of the draw I have to this tree, but I choose to let that go and not dwell or search for reasons, and lose myself to the energy.

I suppose the reasons do not matter at the end of the day as I find myself calm, connected, and reflective when in the presence of the tree.

Is something imagined in my mind, or does this stem from beyond here, beyond the horizon that I see?

In some versions of this image, the sky and clouds emerge from the tree-top, and morning steam flows from the cliffs as the sun emerges from the horizon scattering light into waiting clouds, bursting with orange and purple hues.

In other images, the scene has no movements, everything frozen in thick ice reflecting the grey clouds and water absent of the sun.

In all iterations of the scene with myself standing on the shore looking at the tree, I am content and at peace.

Poem – Awakened

Scattered wisps of clouds
give way to the first sunrise.

Peaking over the horizon,
shoreline rocks absorb each ray.

Newly formed ice from high tide
cracks and refreezes with each wave.

Each inhale brings cold into waiting lungs.
Each exhale pushes out impurities from the previous year.

Like the steam rising from the sea,
I become more awakened with each breath.

Each spirit rising from the turbulent waters
follows the wind with no effort,

letting go and skimming the surface,
the awakened essence dances before

being wallowed by the sun.

First Sunrise of 2019

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.

Poem – That Cabin in the Woods

That cabin in the woods,
nestled beneath second generation pine
planted after the last logging,
waits for our visit.

Snow caught in tree-tops
meanders through the winter sky
covering the green roof in a smooth
slope where acorns speed to the ground.

Ravens ever present toward the open fields,
near the old silo base, they rule the open sky
with acrobatics and voices blanketing
the otherwise quiet space.

The nest in the overhang now empty.
Somewhere deep in the woods they watch
with caution and curiosity as the dogs
run circles around that cabin in the woods.

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