William Ricci

Tag: white

  • The Light Settling in the Woods

      Old growth trees line a worn path cut from loggers decades before. The floor is covered with fallen needles and moss. A single white birch exists within the pine trees and glows no matter the time of day. Red squirrels run up tree trunks and jump to the next branch. If this is a…

  • Poem – Calm

    Time and age conspire with numbers setting expectations. You are only as old as you feel and that depends on the body’s voice. These things are mostly out of our control and in youth we ignore and push limits looking to find something beyond life looking over the edge at the mouth of death. As…

  • Poem – Infinity

    Removed from the city even for an afternoon layers of stress and blocks fall away, replaced by what the wind brings, what the trees take, and what the animals are willing to share. How else to rebuild the soul than to witness firsthand the infinite cycle of nature, of earth, of home?

  • Poem – Perseverance

    Storms rolled through last week. Weak and old trees toppled to the ground or fell into a neighbor or landed on the wire fencing with the orange flags. Near the pole barn smaller trees were uprooted but the metal roof still looks new, the green roof glistening when wet. What little birch are mixed with…

  • Poem – Each Day

    Each day is a chance to look beyond yesterday to take what we have learned into the present as tomorrow becomes today.

  • Poem – Into the Sky…

    We gaze from the wet earth from the snow piles and appreciate the warm sun and the wind through pine masking distant city sounds.

  • Poem – Transition

    The first day of March and we walk through the thin snow covered trails and off the path into the woods. The winter sky keeps no secrets but the wind teases of spring and the reemergence of life.  

  • Poem – What is Still, Still Moves

    Heart of winter is ironic as nothing moves in this cold there is no hot blood though veins keeping extremities alive. As I stand frozen on the patio even my breath escapes slightly before the immortalized words hang in the air. There is a shift in what you see when the clearest blue sky collides…

  • Poem – Vow

    I fear not the process, the natural end of this time here as I prepare for the next. I only fear the method and I vow to meet it’s messenger on my field with sword in hand beneath the white petals.

  • Poem – White Snow

    White snow absent of mind dusts, absent of tree shadows and raven wings. White snow becomes the moon filled river. White snow becomes the expanding horizon. White snow becomes what we bring, what we perceive. An empty canvas, the empty field becomes a blank page and the contents of our full minds, the charged emotions…