Still Mountain
Not once has the earth lied to us, or deserted us, yet see how we treat her. Hummingbird, bluebird, mourning dove, crow. Wise, the still mountain. Where else to go? What else to know? . [ 1747 ]
Tag Archive for ‘Doves’
Believe Not In Corners
The movement of birds, leaves, and insects; the changing patterns of light and shade; clouds; a walker passing by; all accompanied by subtle changes in humidity and temperature — these are the things we miss when we stay indoors and focus for too long on books and screens. Not only do we miss them, we miss the naturally beneficial medicine of our physical engagement and response to random stimuli, our […]
That Little Bit I Say
And such were the questionsso persistently asked, that children taughtwords to speak at last, and the wordsused their eyes, and heldtheir lips fast. “Such Were the Questions”Recently Banned Literature, August 17, 2014 . That Little Bit I Say That little bit I say before it gives waybeneath its own weight, and the icy wind upon the faceof the statue I’ve become in this gardenof wonder, O dear one,hasten, grace alonecan […]
Apricots, Finches, Plums
Found early this morning, fallen from the tree: a very ripe, very sweet apricot — I know, because I ate it right after washing off the ants. The house finches prefer drinking from the shallow glass water dish that we have hanging from the fig tree. The main birdbath, it seems, is a little too large and too busy for them. After watering the barrels, planters, and pots behind the […]
Without Looking Down
Yesterday afternoon I saw a great brown hawk, perhaps three hundred feet from the ground, standing on air, facing a cold spring wind, with its wings open wide. When he allowed it to take him, even eternity was surprised. Dark gray clouds. Rain. Clear blue sky. While I was out, I could not always see him, but I could hear his cries. A storm in the pine: two startled mourning […]
Sweat the Gold, the Place You Kneel
I moved two tiny oak-sprouts from the garden into clay pots today. One was growing next to the six-foot redwood stake at the end of a tomato row; the other was near the base of our vine. For now I’m calling them the vineyard oak and the tomato oak, the latter at the risk of a little clumsiness for the double-o vowels. The main roots on both were surprisingly deep. […]
Canvas 1,208 — Almost Dawn
Almost dawn — the first dove — as if love is a sweet eccentricity [ 735 ]
Bring the Blossom
The doves were here again today. They have visited the fig tree about five times now. And the cherry trees have started to snow. Their petals are like pages, where poetry goes. March 21, 2020. Afternoon. Bring the Blossom As a child knows to scratch the ground just where the earth most needs it, love brings the blossom down to please it — love, bring the blossom, my vow […]
Tomorrow
Each addition to this collection of poems, notes, and drawings has been made with the understanding that it could have been the last. This entry is no different. As far as I can tell, I am here now. I seem to be healthy. I ate a small breakfast and took a walk again this morning, filling my lungs with the fresh chilly air. I took a shower. I see now […]
William Michaelian 