Soft female rain Is falling in the new day. Parched seeds are grateful. . Dawn Bear 4/13/2023 ©Bearspawprint2023
Softened
Frogs are singing While Lightening Bugs Awaken and Grandmother rises Bright and beautiful Edges boundaries perimeters Are softened By a gently settling mist . April 4, 2023 Bear ©Bearspawprint2023 Softened
April
There were Lightening Bugs There was Night Blue Moonlight These entered my Sleepless Dreams As sweet Lullabies of Bells Sung by sparkling Stars of Childhood And carried me As I Flew Entwined With mist In Tree Tops . April 1, 2023 Agawela ©Bearspawprint2023 April
At Peace
The world has turned blue. While a light mist is rising, Frogs sing their night song. . At Peace January 1, 2023 ⓒBearspawprint2023
To soar as Buzzards, as Eagles, must we eat carrion?
Lightening flashes across my vision. If I hold my head at a particular angle, and do not focus directly,. I can identify what I see. Now the lightening lingers, shimmers, dazzling, superimposed over the optic neuritis skewed to ultra violet, beautiful and misleading. Sometimes stabbing pain is the price for such glory. Do the bees, with vision in ultra violet, pay a cost in pain? Is their price a short lifespan? The lightening is from another source, aural migraine, an infinite receding, pursued awareness, A samsara of all encompassing agony. Can I ride pain as Quan Lin, riding a Dragon, surfing the waves of suffering? Will my brain implode, bursting outward from my skull, a nightmare, a quasar-burst of light and waves and matter; radio resonating squeal? Or will it not? All the while the Stars scream, the constant, starry cicada song overwhelmed by the banshee screech that only I perceive. So intense the pain it squeezes the bile from my body in waves of vertigo, sailing up and down, and around, and around, whirling. No end to the spiral. Can I dance it all away, to fall in an exhausted heap? Must I dance on, whirling, screaming: When is there surcease? When is there sleep? Will the cat ever relinquish the Cursed Fiddle? . To soar as Buzzards, as Eagles, must we eat carrion? Bear December 13, 2022 ©Bearspawprint2022
Haiku for Nancy
We are older, now,
Than a little while ago.
The days drift with grace.
.
Bear December 12, 2022
©Bearspawprint2022
End of November
Hickories have turned, Against the no-color sky, Bight lemon yellow. . End of November Bear 11.30.2022 ⓒBearspawprint2022
Pumpkin Shell
There is a little Pumpkin Shell, In which an old old woman does dwell. She is not alone, For she talks with the trees; And though every movement hurts, Her hair dances with the breeze. . Agawela 04November2022 ©Bearspawprint2022
REST
Gray, damp, Overcast, Is the sky Behind dark trees. Mildew is growing, Blooming black, The road is Sand, Deep and dry. Plants hang limp With thirst. Work is futile. I sit and rest, While drinking tea. I watch leaves Gently sway, As the slowly drift, Falling away, Falling. Each one, Dancing alone, Until, On the ground, They gather. I sit and rest. I drink tea. The sky is gray. The forest is silver. The air is damp. The sand is Dry, and deep. I sit, resting. I drink my tea. I am older Than I was A little while ago. Leaves gently sway, Falling. REST Agawela October 29, 2022 ⓒBearspawprint2022
October frogs sing. Grandmother's face glows golden. Longing reveals truth. . Grandson's Birthday Agawela October 6, 2022 ⓒBearspawprint2022
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