The voice of the Great Spirit is heard in the twittering of birds, the rippling of mighty waters, and the sweet breathing of flowers.
There is no great; there is no small; in the mind that causeth all.
Zitkala-Sa (1876-1938) was a Yankton Dakota writer, translator, and educator. She was also known by her Anglicized married name, Gertrude Simmons Bonnin.
Distant memory
Winter’s breath melted away—
Rebirth springing up
Crisp April morning
Afternoon promises warmth—
Daffodils dancing
Sun’s setting calmness
Another night, nature rests—
Guaranteed sunrise
Early morning walk, going back in time
Autumn’s breath creates thoughts, filling with rhyme
Trekking along canal’s ancient pathway
Thoughts caress past moments, plenty to say
Gentle breeze, sending leaves twirling on down
Mind arrives at different time and town
Dreaming . . .
More simple times, without high tech living
Days invite, delightful and forgiving
Riding bareback along this old canal
Looking for trees to climb with school-age pals
Fishing one final time, nearby pond waits
When icy winter comes, change to ice skates
Creepy, storm-filled nights, reading classic prose
Edgar Allen Poe’s words, scary shadows
Looking for literature’s lighter themes
Whitman, Hawthorne, Melville adding to dreams
Quiet evenings filled with family time
Gathered around for radio’s primetime
Crisp, fall afternoon, gridiron titans clash
College football rivals looking to smash
Romance blossoms, courtship takes center stage
Life filling with sweetness, each turning page
Back to reality . . .
Journey runs into closed gate at Rager Road
Turning around, grateful for time borrowed
Looking forward to walking here real soon
Fondest memories, let them sing a tune
Originally published October, 2020.
Sunset frames day’s end
Horizon returns light
Spirit shutters wind
Dreams ready to take flight
Beyond nightly moon
Every hour, beaming bright
Peace transcends below
Full of joyous delight
Distant, twinkling star
Suspended, flying kite
Hope gathers above
Darkness sparkles, all white
Breath of wayward cloud
Blocking out moon’s eyesight
Gentle breeze exhales
Skies brighten, rest of night
Final hour’s countdown
Horizon preps rewrite
Plot thickens again
Sunrise swaps out moonlight
Blessed sunrise light
Opportunity’s window—
Day’s fresh song composed
Vapor of spring’s breath
Freshest, greenest life rising—
Gentleness reborn
Ocean’s rhythmic waves
Touched by Creator’s passion—
Tireless energy
From the words of English novelist and poet, Mary Webb: “Nature’s music is never over; her silences are pauses, not conclusions.”
Creation’s wonders, lasting treasures
Beyond compare, by any measure
God’s unique Spirit molds, creates
Earth living as His domain, first-rate
Forests dazzle with matchless beauty
Witness to our Lord’s sacred duty
Animal species roam, some quite rare
Others appear to be everywhere
Distinctive flowers color the land
Their music soothes, like any jazz band
Unequaled majesty reaching high
Rugged mountains climbing to the sky
Creatures with their eccentric pursuits
Actions showing off, fun attributes
Man taking note of what God has done
High praises, He stands second to One
One and only one master designs
Each day, smiling at His nature shrines
From Genesis 1:29-30: “God said, ‘See, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food. And to every beast of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, I have given every green plant for food.’ And it was so.”
Originally published October, 2020.
Knowing trees, I understand the meaning of patience. Knowing grass, I appreciate patience.
A frontier is never a place; it is a time and a way of life.
Hal Borland (1900-1978) was an American writer, journalist, and naturalist.
Under cover of night
Fullest moon, ever bright
Another day now waits
Nature’s splendid estate
Galaxy’s twinkling stars
Distant markers afar
Risen spirit above
Filled with Creator’s love
Each distant breath measures
Dreams filling with treasures
Scattered glimpse of wonder
Sudden sound of thunder
Heartbreak covers landscape
No avenue for escape
Yet, horizon brightens
Darkness set to lighten
Night sky growing smaller
Brilliant pallet’s colors
Clouds bowing to sunrise
Morning’s innocent eyes
When I rise up, let me rise up joyful like a bird. When I fall, let me fall without regret like a leaf.
The soil is the great connector of lives, the source and destination of all. It is the healer and restorer and resurrector.
Wendell Berry (born 1934) is an American novelist and poet. Much of his writing embraces the goodness of protecting our environment and preserving agriculture’s way of life.
Creator’s gentleness moves
Ability to reshape
Another day, now embrace
Tranquility’s landscape
Creator’s eternal eye
Hint of tomorrow takes shape
Daily treasures, just embrace
Joyfulness fills landscape
Creator’s vision gathers
No longer covered in tape
Nature’s portrait, soon embrace
Harmony paints landscape
Creator’s elegance breathes
Images fill each dreamscape
Trove of delights, let’s embrace
Time’s patience frames landscape
Creator’s quiet outlook
Peacefulness never escapes
Innocence, always embrace
Silence sketches landscape
