Celebrating every little gift, every single day.

Sunday, 2 March 2014

White on White

Snow falls but rarely here,
and when it does,
strangers
stop each other on the street
to lament its inconvenience.

But I am grateful 


for the beauty
of white on white,


for still church yards,
undisturbed
by passers-by,


for country views
as quiet
as a whisper,


for wild rose hips
wearing winter caps,


for strong arbutus trees
raising rust-hued branches
toward the snow-greyed skies,


 and for yellow-ochre willow twigs
shouting defiantly
that Spring is on the way.

So brief,
these still, white moments,
so transient,
so sweet.
I am grateful

for each and every one.

Wednesday, 30 October 2013

October

November is about to chase 
October from the stage
but, 
just now,
she holds her place, 


clutching hard
both to the gifts of summer, 


and her memories of spring.


All the while
her robes change colour 


and her glories fall at her feet.


Sweet October,
in nature as in life,
a transient glory,


but all the more precious
for her fragile beauty 


and her memories.



Tuesday, 23 July 2013

Trails and Trees

Sometimes it seems that life presents
an impenetrable barrier to me;
all the world standing,
arms akimbo,
blocking my way,
beautiful,
implacable,
and not a little frightening


but if I look long enough
I eventually see
a path through the forest
beckoning to me.


At first it seems 
both wide and welcoming
winding gently,
lit by sunlight,
and cooled by dappled shade


but then
the way grows more difficult,


and barriers appear


and even nature
seems to wind upon itself;
twisting, twisting,
ever-changing.


I fear I've lost my way.

In that moment

- just when I feel most lost -

I see blue sky before me.


It is at first
just a suggestion of light,
but still enough
to keep me going
until I find my way,


arriving at my destination
and,
beautiful as it is,
glorious in light and magnitude,


I know 
I would not appreciate it
half so much
had I not
got lost along the way.

Wednesday, 17 October 2012

Genoa Bay

Ceruleun skies
led me outdoors,
along winding roads,
to a little spit of land



where water meets stone
and starfish live,


where mussels adorn
hard edges
and cling to mooring ropes,



where weathered wood
and rusted metal



support floating homes



and potted gardens,



where strawberries grow
next to salt water,



and tall sunflowers
nod against rust brown trellises,



where yellow boats
sport dark red sails, 



and weathered jetties
bridge still waters
mirroring gold leaves.



I found Autumn there.


She reached out warm hued fingers
and took my heart
gently
in her hands.

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Please be respectful of my work.  All the photographs in this post are protected by copyright and may not be used without my written permission.
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Sunday, 8 July 2012

Sunset

Two summers ago I moved to this place.
Or back to it.
 It was my childhood home,
but I regretted leaving the windswept beaches


and rugged scenery
of my north island town.


This new home is a gentler place 
with rolling green pastoral fields


instead of the sharp blue peaks
I was accustomed to seeing in the distance.


One night, 
desperate,
I phoned my brother and said
"Please, take me where the water is!"

He took me to the estuary


and, although the light was beautiful,


I was disappointed
by tame scenery
and level green fields.


Mother Nature must have felt my disappointment
because,
as the sun began to set,


she showed me pyrotechnics
the likes of which I'd never seen before.


She lit the sky with oranges, reds, and purples
that were reflected
in the quiet waters


and,
with that single spectacular event,


tied my heart to this new place
so that,
even when I'm bored
or sad,


I still remember
brilliant sunset hues.


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Please be respectful of my work.  All the photographs in this post are protected by copyright and may not be used without my written permission.
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This post is linked to Simple Things Sunday hosted by Simple As That, to Gallery of Favorites hosted by Premeditated Leftovers and The 21st Century Housewife, and to Saturday Night Special hosted by Funky Junk Interiors.

 

Sunday, 3 June 2012

Look Up!

Look at him,
suspended there,
so effortless in flight


while, 
below,
we toil away,
intent on our small industries,
oblivious, 
to the daily celebration
soaring all around us.

Look up!



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Please be respectful of my work.  The photo and text in this post are protected by copyright and may not be used without my written permission.
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This post is linked to Simple Things Sunday, hosted by {The Simple Things}.