White Cloud

White Cloud

white clouds drift over & out
the pine scented forest
crows head home in the dusk
by groups or as singular birds
all go north
clear pitch drips
without intent
beneath the tree trunk
a squirrel has prepared holes
to be filled with pine cones

Trumpet

Yesterday the wind
blew so tough that it looked just
like Louis Armstrong.

Clear Pitch

Clear Pitch

back in the pine scented forest
big site
WPA stone stove
mosquitoes not bad
water close
nature having fun with us
trees drip lots of pine sap
pants,pots,hats,hands sticky
wasps retire as crickets begin their song
clear pitch reflects silver in moonlight
musicians envy

forest service having fun with us
chain saws buzzing on Sunday!
we walked the pioneer trail
glad I am not pulling a wagon

not pitch black that night
stars, white clouds & a bright
lazy moon peaks through the trees

Riverbank being at the edge of immersive be/coming

In the deepest rivulets of the summer-quietened streams, I linger. In the moist edge-rocks, pebbling the eddies of water quenching riverbank, I linger. I arise with a hunger for this sweet and tender water-touching-land wholeness, of one thing making another, becoming another, of water and stone making mud and leaf, of the deep shade below tangy scents and stream bush sweetnesses. Of water rolling over earth, aeons, becoming air and riverbed. Of cooling earth rolling around the sun, more aeons, whirling clouds and ocean.

Anatomy/Ontology

-->

—reflecting at Harbin Hot Springs

Are people how they look?

Can you see in a face

the coffee-table book

of every glow and grace

some divine sculptor took

the time to mold in place?

Appearances deceive,

some say. But who can guess

faultlessly or receive

all revelations shook

from the embodied weave

of two totalities

looking out at themselves?

As humans sensing, we

express what is our space.

They’re the same: the body,

the personality.

Pleistocene ( inverted )

the respite of souls

uncoiling from busy lifetimes

chronological becoming  /  becoming the fossil records 


the biological truth of her tusk  /  your long pointed hunger 

you and i tucked in amidst the Ferns 

Mastodon fallow and waiting


wide awake for a century or two

Mastodon running wild /  wholly immersed  

drunk with the musk of her return

a soft fury  /  a Rave

stretching her play across the drama of opening night

it's transparent silence  

it's moisture

IMUNURI Prompt: Nature

by Gary Snyder, 1968

BIOPHOTO ASSOCIATES/SCIENCE PHOTO LIBRARY

Color enhanced scanning electron micrograph of stomata on a rose leaf. Magnification: x1800.

Nature.
The material world.
The world as it exists without humans.
The world including humans.
Relationships between living systems.
The universe and its phenomena.


Nature is your subject this week.
Consider tapping into stories that have a charge for you.
Consider these offerings as sparking points among a great many.

It's a wide open space...


keywords: nature, poem, your name

Analemma of the sun