summer

Poem – A Childhood in Retrospect

Shifting through photos
I feel no connection, no recognition
to the person with time and years
ahead of them, looking to the future.

Pausing at one in particular in the midst of summer,
oak leaves burning with white light,
the sun slowly fading into the horizon
behind the hill at the street’s end.

What was etched into the mind
when the image became a permanent
moment tossed into a shoe box?
What was the last thought defining that moment?

Years will pass and that young face
will undergo an outward expression
of the strife, agony, depression, and final transformation
built upon the experiences, cast from the struggle.

In time what we are in this life
circles back to the foundation,
the hands pushing up from the earth,
the roots feeding a child’s growth and imagination.

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 – I am Out There

(1)

Frequent glimpses of moving
shadows and white figures.

(2)

One last time I enter the cold
darkness and find a mass near

the bushes, but this object
reflects nor consumes light

and I immediately feel a connection
and cry when I know this is my shadow.

(3)

A view across the expanse of empty
cold ice covering the fields

we long ago ran across playing
tag and enjoying the last summer of youth.

(4)

Brief glimpses of time I have not
felt or tasted consume my thoughts

when I let go.

Sounds and images of a home
I have not yet found, yet claw for with all my strength.

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Poem – Late Summer

With the charged air wavering
between summer and autumn

we walked beneath the canopies
throwing scattered light on

faces thankful for the sun
thankful for the peace within the city.

Thinking only about my feet
and where they land next

I closed my eyes and kept
moving along the path

I opened my eye and I was
cast between here and there.

Poem – Accept What is Given

I awoke whole with
an empty mind.

I left the front
door into the morning

air filled with mist
and raven calls from

treetops surrounding
the small pond.

I was along and not alone
and took comfort in murky

sun giving away purple light.

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Dogs of Summer #1

Summer is not quite here, but that does not deter the sun, warmth, and life within the forest. The well-worn path lined with decades of growth, birth, and death is never lonely, is always filled with the voice of the forest. With a gentle touch and respect we spend our time free of the city, free of industry. We ditch thinking and revert to instincts and run free.

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Dog’s Path

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Sisters Taking a Break

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A Quiet Home

 

Poem – The Day Wisdom Came from the Clouds Above

(1)

Summer months fell into the autumn.
Mist clung to pine before the sun rose.

Brown needles falling from the sky
slide down the barn’s green metal roof.

We walk past fallen trees, piles of brush,
two tree stumps to be removed, knee-high

patches of weeds and wild flowers, a
bat house, three thistle-filled socks,

a burnt circle in the dirt from last
years burning, and finally the green gate.

(2)

The open field stretches to the horizon
and beyond with our imagination as to

the wonders nature has planned as
the sun emerges above the treeline.

From the east, we hear them.
Closer, louder, they circle at

great heights, specs in the sky,
appearing to descend the closer

they come to the field, as we
move behind grasses.

One last circle and their
grand black bodies against

the autumn blue, pass over
our heads, a slow motion dream

with an empty mind, one wing flap
echoes through the open field

and soon the whoosh disappears
along with the raven, natures’ wonder.

A Look Ahead

As summer has become fall and most days have the aura and feel of winter, the climbing season and kayaking come to an end for this year.  Now it is time to look ahead and begin planning for next summer when the sun returns.

Here are some blog entries from Alpine Ascents as their last climb of Mt. Rainier recently completed.

http://alpineascents.com/rainier-blog.asp

Here are blog entries from Arctic Wild, based on Fairbanks, Alaska.

http://www.arcticwild.com/blog/