11.29.13 Even In Winter, I Hear The Garden Singing

I can't pick flowers. 

I can grow them. For them. 

And insects. And birds. And butterflies. And caterpillars.

 And hummingbirds. 

Just the way it is. 

I can water them. And mulch them. And take care of their diseases.

 And fertilize them. And sit with them. And get to know them.

I can lie in the grass

 and watch the sunflowers' faces

 slowly magically 

turn as the sun makes

 Its way across the sky.

But when frost is imminent, 

I can harvest them.

 I can cut them 

and dry them 

or turn them into 

herbal tinctures or oils.

But I don't cut them and bring them in the house

 and arrange them and enjoy them.

Maybe it's like being a vegetarian.

 It's not about right and  wrong .

It's just not the thing for me.

Even in my house, 

even in my sleep,

 even in the winter,

 I hear the garden singing.

11.28.13 The Danse

The Danse

She was down in the backfields
down past the outwaters
threading through the tall grass
pulled by the river's roar

And something inside whispered 
of those who used to harm
long long ago
far over faint hills,can you see?

And so she wrapped her arms
round her shoulders
gave herself a tug
"They're dead, dead, dead."

Then off they went,
hands clasped tight
billowing through
the meadow

11.30.13 Foxglove Love

This foxglove is so effervescent and bounteous,
 spreading its vibrant offspring across the garden with abandon ,
 when I was cautioned how difficult and particular a plant they were. 

Oh, so many types and sizes of bees have actual, enduring orgies in each blossom of seeming delight. 

And I wander by, lean down, peek in and by my glance irritate a blessedly arduous buzzed up insect, 
minuscule or ponderously enormous- no matter- 
they all delight in this plant, 

who does grow and grow their heavy stalks
 bearing pickled spotted pink blossoms 
just higher and higher, til, 
alarmed as I pass by one day, 
I run to fetch the twine and an old stake ,
 carefully providing a loose yet supportive web
 round the luscious, powerful plant,
 so as to continue their rapid quest 

for the height of the barberry;
 the elegant phlox, yes , 
the towering marshmallow , 
careening upward
 as Japanese beetles eschew 
and the buzzing ones visit 
and are embraced to stay. 

And now, quiet, this plant and their 
numerous offspring do sleep 
-and deeply,
 out where the frost makes
 the rich snoring garden
 seem a dead thing.

8.4.13 How Did It Come To Pass

How did it come to pass

that my foolish impertinence

did not leave this person 

And somehow 

through a life reminiscent

 of Lot's ( you too?) 

we are still here

holding hands 

after the thunder

and before the downpour

10.10.13 "And Then It Flows Through Me, Like Rain "

Quote from the movie "American Beauty"

"I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me. But it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world.

Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst.

And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it. And then it flows through me, like rain.

And I can't feel anything but gratitude."

10.13.13 Summertime River Feeling

Silly me. 

I mourned the loss of the winter. 

And now I'm mourning the loss 

of this summertime river feeling. 

Ah well, all things in good time.

11.22.13 Staccato of Yellow

Comment #1 : Beautiful in life but wouldn't it also be a great quilt?"

Comment #2 : "Like the effect."

Response: "Great idea. The staccato of yellow across the fabric..

Outside , everywhere you gaze, fine art."

11.23.13 How Fairy Tales Are Born

A bright November bouquet of oak leaves, caught up in the pine branches

Was just perched there, gloriously bright, caught in the Pine branches; and will most likely remain there, glowing, til the middle of some dark winter's night, when the cold wind gusts and sends the paled leaves on their way.

Comment: " How Fairy Tales are born."

Answer: Oh yes! So true, really. 

"Once upon a time there was a magic shining bouquet of bright Oak Leaves, nestled in the shielding arms of the Pine Forest." 

11.23.13 My Baby; My Moose

11.24.13 All the All the Years

Well, my beloved dog Shiva Louisa Latrine, borne of abandonment and starvation, grown up a fine small powerful alpha queen, to take big pitty boys to their knees with nary a movement; even now, mostly deaf and blind, recently unable to walk but with a little spinal alignment and disc conversation, now walks further than ever. Pain is moderate. Gets lotsa herbs pushed down her throat with treats in between , the very best dry food and fresh chicken, walks and cuddles.

The constant NAG of a pup that yearns to be friends... Separate from her most of the day unless I'm there.

Still, the ground is about to freeze right down , so today her grave was dug. In the backyard with the view that has been her domain to stand and defend and own, and now the pup gradually is taking it upon his young self, while Shiva is spoiled and comes first and is less and less interested..

Who has all kinds of conditions we have not the money to address - but no matter.

Here she is, just delicious and glorious and tough and tender.

Today K and I sat in the kitchen planning the 'bury the dog in deep winter', then paused and remembered all all the 16 delicious years, tears crawling down our cheeks, as she lives in my heart today ; as she will live in my heart forever, as she makes her certain and unknown path further into her own old age.

11.25.13 Out By Pete's Tire Barn.....

Out by Pete's Tire Barn 

getting tires fixed up for winter. 

Top of the morning to you! 

And there, 

quietly perched up in the stratosphere,

 is a glimpse of the moon, 

with the quietly bubbling clouds 

moving through the neighborhood.

11.26.13 Disappear in a Moment

Gray New England day. 

First snow;

 fine dusting

 that disappears 

in a moment.

11.26.13 How Do You Manage?

Q: How do you manage to do all this art?

A: It just roils out as I wander around

Calling. Making lotsa noise.

"Hey you, over there!

How about this angle?

Yeah, yeah; lie down.

Oh hush! Who gives a crap about the rain?

Or your shoes?

There. Lovely. 

You saw one thing, and 

transformed it into a dear friend.

Who will stick around. "

Yup, that's my brain.

. 

11.27.13 Blessed Be

Corinthians 9 6-8 
"Whosoever shall sow bounteously, shall reap, bounteously. " 

Blessed be your comings and goings;

your empathy of spirit, 

and your deep common sense. 

Your iridescent gratitude 

and your doing unto others.

11.27.13 The Danse

She was down in the backfields

Down past the outwaters

Threading through the tall grass

Pulled by the river's roar

When something inside whispered 

of those who used to harm

long long ago

far over faint hills; can you see?

And so she wrapped her arms 

round her shoulders ;

gave  herself a tug -

"They're dead, dead, dead."

Then off they went, 

Hands clasped tight 

billowing through 

the dark meadow