You’re not alone in wanting to do less, and to do that less more quietly, more intently, more aware.
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It was bliss. Everything after that was quietly measured against how close to, or far from, that feeling it might take me. What was it? Where did it come from, where did it go, and how do I find it again?
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To see stars that are very faint you need to avert your gaze. To see them, you don’t look straight at them. You pretend, oh so casually, to look elsewhere. You sneak up on them unawares. You side-eye them.
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Feeling out of the step with the world is an uncomfortable thing.
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Every original thing has come
from the invisible beyond
Last evening I was called into the night by an owl
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They were flying in every direction. In pairs and threes, groups of five or more. They go every which way, crossing paths, splitting off, groups coming together, parting and patterning the sky.
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Run your hand over the hydrangea head. Only when it sounds papery is it ready to pick
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We pull things to us,
try to cloak, clothe and comfort ourselves
but every new layer stifles,
leaves a polyester itch.
It’s not just the birds I know
singing from places I recognise,
landmarks I chart and check by sound—
In the end
the moment of change
is imperceptible.
Out walking, I stepped well away from the road when a car was coming. After the car passed I went to take a step, looked down and found this at my feet.
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I have created a playlist of my nature-related poems…
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Our invisible
everything
radiates,
I worked the seed heads in my hands, round and round, pressing my thumb as you would with a clay pot. I could feel the layers of thin stems pressing together, becoming tangled.
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and while I’ve been waiting
for the rain, anticipating
the return of the creek’s fine running
now it’s here I wish…
The praying mantis stood up
and waved his thin front leg, searching for a foothold,
looking for a way out of this mess.
Why didn't I hug you harder,
visit more, stay longer,
let my hand linger in yours?
Why didn’t we sit side by side
every chance we had?