Friday, September 24, 2021

Bearcamp Pond, September 16th.

Red patches appear,
Glow in dark'ning summer greens:
The pond is cooling

Reactivating the Blog

September - reactivating the Blog
Recent poems

I have been working on other projects for the past month or so, but now, with the publication on Amazon of my poetry book "Musings" I am returning to what I hope will be a regular schedule. So here is a short string from the past weeks -

Beg to Report

In the 3.20's of the night – yet again


Beg to report

Signs of life on the surface of this human brain.

Crackling the same old way

Following ancestral paths

Out of the wells of consciousness

Coming up with the same questions

Battered by the same storms


Beg to report

Primal thoughts are bubbling to the surface

Pouring into ancient molds -

These halting moments of wonder

Struck our forebears, who thought like us

Who peered with the same familiar apparatus

From their lonely archipelago of time.



Bearcamp Pond, late August


Misty morning, grey.

Dark sky sombres the water

Tones down summer's green.



King of a Fragile Realm


Small palace, set in half-tamed woods

Old pastures, rocky streams

Dirt and tarmac roads winding through.

Outside the human world dwindles quickly -

At night the quieter sounds emerge

The to and fro of wild survivors

And under them the silence.

My morning swim in lakes the hour makes private,

My royal bath in waters pure, preserved for me.


Here inside the palace I am king

Surrounded by ancestral furniture

Hoarding millions of words

Shelves of ink and paper

Muttering museums of talk,

The paraphernalia of eating and drinking

The images of art and tribal record on the walls

The fabrics of comfort and display

Machines, no not to think but receivers and transmitters

To access gather organize and store

A library so vast it beggars all the treasuries

The vaults and armories of ancient kings.

Here I sit and summon the riches of the Earth

The local goods not good enough for me -

My coffee arrives from Ethiopia

At the click of a mouse, no coins across the counter

My tea by magic carpet from Darjeeling

My wine from anywhere, the oikoumene of the grape

From all the seas and corners of the globe

The flesh of animals that walk and creep and swim

The vegetation I decree is fit for me

All comes in plastic packaging

Supply chains at my casual command

Driven by fossils heaved up from the ground

Delivered by the young man carrying the package to my door.


The ultimate fuel is money

A mass delusion,

Conspiracy of estimated worth

Comes in waves, in and out

Numbers washing through machines -

I am on my throne believing I control them

They are my unruly subjects

Washed in and out all day, all night

At the whim of my royal, royal dream.




Summer nights


Here on Earth I wade through shadows

Skirting the edge of darkness

Threading a path through pools of silence.

In impenetrable night I tend to exist.


I am standing in the rain

The stabbing wind's blind fingers

The atmosphere thinning

Gravity slowly losing its grip

Bear me out.

Out beyond, to the breathless stars.


Morning observance:

Suspended 'twixt Heav'n and Earth

Diving in the pond.



2022


It's time our time our time of life

In 2022

For us to rise above the strife

in 2022



It's time to step to centre stage

In 2022

To break out from our mental cage

In 2022


For we are what the planet's got

In 2022

Our faults don't matter, not a jot

In 2022


For now the wolf is at the door

In 2022

And night has come, the flames will roar

In 2022


It's up to us, the random team

In 2022

To be much better than we seem

In 2022


So we are saviours of the world

In 2022

We share a fate we can't escape

In 2022


The Earth will burn, the waters rise

In 2022

And we shall fight towards the light

In 2022


We're not the ones the angels choose

In 2022

We look as though we're bound to lose

In 2022


The winds will howl, the clouds will glower

In 2022

Brave speeches will proclaim the hour

In 2022


There's no one else to hold the line

In 2022

It's no use looking for a sign

In 2022


We're headed for the cliff, my friends

In 2022

With no more dreams to patch and mend

In 2022


It's down to us,the worst, the best

In 2022

To change the world, survive the test

In 2022


We're just the same we've always been

In 2022

We have to find the golden mean

In 2022


There's nothing new that we can find

In 2022

We have to fight but still stay kind

In 2022


For we can't win unless we love

In 2022

And we'll invoke the powers above

In 2022


For inspiration needs to strike

In 2022

So we can learn to dam the dyke

In 2022


And we're the same old motley crew

In 2022

And sacrifice is what to do

In 2022


So now's the time that truth will out

In 2022

A time that we are cleansed of doubt

In 2022


The time of waiting now is past

In 2022

The criss now will bind us fast

In 2022


And we must carry all our strife

In 2022

And strive to save the planet's life

In 2022


So here we are, a sorry lot

Who wish upon a star

But we are what the planet's got

The door is still ajar

And in our minds we pull the blinds

Th sun still shines, the sky is blue

The road is ahead is one we dread

But every dawn is hope anew

In baffling, daunting challenging

2022


The Spirit of the Woods - a hymn to diversity

The Snapdragon film project has as its theme "The Spirit of the Woods." A core idea is the wonderful diversity of our local natural world. A Columbian might think our biodiversity a little sparse compared with the lands further south, but I find it pretty close to the principle of plenitude of St. Thomas Aquinas,  that everything that could possibly be created in this world is out there somewhere.This hymn/ode is spoken by the humans who are denizens, accustomed to the wonders around us.


We are the people of the woods

We know the paths, the trees, the streams

We know the rocks, the thickets, the flowers

We know very mushroom, every fruit, every acorn

We know every animal, every mammal,

Every bird, every reptile, every amphibian,

Every fish, every insect,

Every spider, every beetle,

Every ant and every bee

Even the ticks, the wasps, the flies that bite

Even the larvae and the babies

The caterpillars and cocoons

The creatures that hide underground

That burrow under the leaves, among the roots

Deeper and deeper into the world below

Under the forest floor.

We know our kin, our brothers and sisters

Moose and bear, deer and wolf

Coyote and fisher, skunk and porcupine,

Racoons and weasels, beavers and foxes

Chipmunks and rabbits, squirrels and voles,

Salamanders, turtles, lizards and snakes

Leeches and catfish, perch and trout

And all the great parliament of hundreds of fowls

Eagles and owls and hawks and ravens

Turkeys and herons and geese and ducks

Loons and kingfishers, robins and wood thrushes

Finches and warblers and brave little chickadees

Cowbirds and hummingbirds, crows and bluebirds

We know their habits and songs and migrations

We know their foods and places to nest.

We know the dragonflies, butterflies, moths

We know the billions of creatures too small to be reckoned

That fill in the fabric and make it all work.

We know the murmurings of the wood-wide web

Under and over and above and around us

We know the dawn time when sunlight is golden

Slanting and picking out light prints in darkness

We know  the wakenings of creatures by day

We know the chorus of life in the mornings

The rustlings the snuffling the scratchings the paddings

The silence of the little ones when the mountain lion goes by.

We know the slow descent into twilight

The sunlight caressing the line of the mountains

The still of the lake surface ruffled by breezes

The plopping of frogs and the jumping of fish

The pooling of darkness, the gathering of shadows

We know the quiet of the snow-bound deep winter

The quiet of the forest on hot summer days

We wake in the darkness of night hunters calling

The hooting and screeching of owls as they're flying

Silent and deadly for each vole and mouse.


And under the quiet and the business of living

The calm of the spirits, the souls of the woods

The breath of the centuries, the ages of Earth,

The times that we're part of, our brothers and sisters

That all of us share into death and rebirth.

This is our city, our city of nature

Its palaces, temples, its treasures and byways

Nature's great city where we have our place.


An Early Swim at Bearcamp


Pure blue dome the sky
Solitary loon diving
The world holds its breath

Ripples

Into the dawn pond
Ripples of water, air, light
Go out for ever.

Blown Away


Blown away

Born from dust

My bits and pieces

Accumulated

Caught majestic fire

Fused, concentrated,

Exploded in a cataclysm of change

Blown away


Clouds gathered

Reaccumulated

I was assembled again


When I was born

The world blew me away

I was bewildered

Swept along a corridor of wind
A headlong flux of time.


Then love came

I was blown away

The cocktail of chemicals overwhelmed

I fell and fell and went on spiraling


Time took its course

Snaked through the days, the years

Blowing them away


Then in the end

The winds of Death will rise

I will be ashes, dust

Blown away


At this point

I cannot be created

Cannot be destroyed

Just blown away