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serene

Satisfaction

silent but for my breath and the sound of my heart beating

I stand still, silent but for my breath and the sound of my heart beating, the warmth of the sun on my face as I look straight ahead. I look down and place my feet in the exact position I need them and then, standing straight, look sideways over my left s...

ICE

a pond poem from my magical cabin seeing the ice

 Today, the pond is stiff with ice and when I tossed a stone and saw it slide, not sink, I watched it sitting on the frozen surface and took a breath of the chilly air, surprised at how what rippled yesterday was now so still and new, changed by the weath...

Two Ducks

Ponderings--watching ducks from my cabin overlooking a lovely trout pond

Two ducks swim by my window, and I wonder do they love each other, or even know that love exists, and I wonder what it is that keeps their feathered lives so bound that every day they go from shore to shore together, so quiet and serene. And I see their t...

4:15 AM

Ponderings--daily poems from my cabin overlooking a lovely trout pond

It’s dark here on the pond. For some, it’s the middle of the night, but here in these quiet hours before the light of another day, I take my pen and find these words that come to me from who knows where and scratch out what matters to me now, though I don...

Nothing's New

a pond poem from my magical cabin reflecting on ancient times and love

Nothing that I think or feel is new, but now it’s mine to taste and savor, and as I breathe the warm, sweet air in this sunny room I think of ancient times-- times before history— when men, some young, some old looked up at the stars and moon with wonder...

The Pond and Time

Ponderings--daily poems from my hexagon shaped cabin overlooking a lovely trout pond

We play with time when we take away an hour and then in spring give it back as if we have some power over time, but nothing stops the days from coming, or the months, and years, and sitting here living by this pond, glancing at the hour hand I moved, I do...

Why Write.....

Ponderings--daily poems from my hexagon shaped cabin overlooking a lovely trout pond

If I could paint, each day I’d be at my easel painting what I think I see across the pond, or if I could carve, each day I’d peel away the wood and find the loon, or heron or duckling and try to get the wing just right, or if I played the violin, or flute...

A Morning Greeting

Ponderings--daily poems from my hexagon shaped cabin overlooking a lovely trout pond

Good morning, pond. I know that you can’t hear me, or feel how happy I am to see you gleaming in the rising sunlight. It’s just that words swell in me when I see your stillness, the blue sky shining on your surface, the trees like silhouettes floating acr...

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Wonder

Ponderings--daily poems from my hexagon shaped cabin overlooking a lovely trout pond

Today, looking at this lovely pond, I wonder how we came to live here, together sharing the light of the ancient sun and at night, the moon and distant stars. And sitting here in these silent moments, before gathering wood for the chilly night, I look out...

Dawn

Daily poems from my hexagon shaped cabin overlooking a lovely trout pond

 Dawn and the pond is still and quiet. Last night I saw the sliver of the moon shining on the water. It was dark and I was looking down, not up as if the water was the sky. But now, as morning comes and the clouds float across the pond and the trees, turn...

From the Porch

Ponderings--daily poems from my hexagon shaped cabin overlooking a lovely trout pond

FROM THE PORCH Today, the pond is filled with ripples sparkling in the sunlight, not like yesterday, when a storm poured rain on the pond, and a chilling wind tore leaves from the trees. Nearby, a pile of logs is waiting to be split, the axe resting like...

Ponderings

Daily poems from my hexagon shaped cabin overlooking a lovely trout pond

From My Window While the pond reflects the red and gold of the trees along the shore, and the slow clouds high above move across the still water, I ask who am I to ask for more? And so I sit here at my desk with no order and say to the silent air, how ble...

Heavenly Light

Wrote this when I was 16. It's for someone I probably owe more than I admit.

I like this light that streams in through my  window and fills my heart  I don’t know what time of the day it is,  or where I am.  I can’t seem to attribute this light to any  particular time or place.  Nor can I identify or locate its childlike rays. Thi...

The Silence That She Loves

A hymn to the Goddess

 Upon the rippling desert sands How silently she stands, How solemn, how lonely, how serene - As she has ever been. Daughter of the Sun’s distant youth, In beauty and in truth What peer has she among the fair – But then, what does she care? At evening, as...