Writing a Page

 Go home and write 

 a page tonight.  

And let that page 

come out of you - 

 Then, it will be true.

 ― Langston Hughes

The words                             

  to write

                            are hard  

                                        to find

                                                       for me.

I let                                

the images    

                 create

                                my

                                                  Poetry.

Print Available - HERE 

I Am Never Done With Looking

There are things you can’t reach. But 

You can reach out to them, and all day long. 

 The wind, the bird flying away. 
The idea of God. 

 And it can keep you busy as anything else, 
and happier.

 I look; morning to night I am never done with looking. 

 Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around 

As though with your arms open.

~ Mary Oliver

Delighted

Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light.

~ Mary Oliver

Mary Oliver is an amazing Poet!  Her words seem to reflect exactly how I feel!

Aptitude To Fly

A power of Butterfly must be - 

The Aptitude to fly 

Meadows of Majesty concedes 

And easy Sweeps of Sky -

~  Emily Dickinson

I need an ID on this little guy.  

This one is a first for me. 
An Eastern Pine Elfin perhaps?  

Touched By Wonderful

 I held my breath as we do sometimes
to stop time 
when something wonderful has touched us
~ Mary Oliver

To Add A Little Cheer

That I may not in blindness grope,
But that I may with vision clear
Know when to speak a word of hope
Or add a little wholesome cheer.
S.E. Kiser

Touch us Gently

TOUCH us gently, Time!

 Let us glide adown thy stream 

 Gently,—as we sometimes glide 

Through a quiet dream. 

Humble voyagers are We, 

Husband, wife, and children three—

 (One is lost,—an angel, fled 

 To the azure overhead.)

Touch us gently, Time!

 We ’ve not proud nor soaring wings: 

 Our ambition, our content, 

 Lies in simple things. 

Humble voyagers are We, 

 O’er Life’s dim, unsounded sea, 

Seeking only some calm clime;— 

Touch us gently, gentle Time!

 ~ Barry Cornwall

About the image:  A winter wildflower 

About the poem:  Barry Cornwall is the pseudonym for Bryan Procter an English poet.

This is my first exposure to his poems and this one has captured my heart.  

At Home In the Forest

Red-bellied Woodpecker in the Forest along Deerfield Trail

Blacksburg, Virginia       

You ask why I make my home in the mountain forest, 

and I smile, and am silent, 

and even my soul remains quiet: 

it lives in the other world which no one owns. 

The peach trees blossom, The water flows. 

 ~ Li Po

I Am Rich with Autumn's Gold

I am rich today with autumn's gold,

All that my covetous hands can hold;

Frost-painted leaves and goldenrod,

A goldfinch on a milkweed pod,

Huge golden pumpkins in the field

With heaps of corn from a bounteous yield,

Golden apples heavy on the trees

Rivaling those of Hesperides,

Golden rays of balmy sunshine spread

Over all like butter on warm bread;

And the harvest moon will this night unfold

The streams running full of molten gold.

Oh, who could find a dearth of bliss

With autumn glory such as this!

- Gladys Harp

The Spreading of a Wing

 My turn shall also come: 

I sense the spreading of a wing.

~ Osip Mandelstam

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Willing To Be Dazzled

Still, what I want in my life is to be willing to be dazzled---to cast aside the weight of facts and maybe even to float a little above this difficult world.

~ Mary Oliver