FUJI (wisteria)
By the cottages of Penrhos,
Letting the warm wall take its weight.
Resting on the earth like a mountain does.
Leaning gnarled, an old man supports himself.
When time comes, his tongue flowers
Eloquent strings of song,
After the frosts have gone
And before the long rains.
—
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged nature, photography, Poetry, summer, Wales, wisteria | 2 Comments »
ABERYSTWYTH RAIN
A long sweep of grey bay.
Above the town, an angel,
come for the living
or come for the dead.
It hovers matter of fact
above the dusty warehouses.
The castle keep grins
all broken teeth,
a bleak oppression,
our proud scars displayed.
Placid the waters today
and the tides all low.
The edge of one world,
the edge of another.
Hesitant, the angel hangs,
awaiting signs on the horizon
that something is worth moving for,
that something has not been abandoned,
something vital not forgotten.
—
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THE HEDGES
The hedges hawthorn foam.
Precise time ceased and waiting.
A mist to smudge everything not near.
And a blue cool watchfulness
Before slow, large drops of rain.
Hills, and hills behind the hills, we see.
Hills and hills in the heart of the land.
Inch by inch they choose green
Over wan winter brown.
Inch by inch they swell and sing
Sated with descending arcs of summer stars
—
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged landscape, landscape photography, Mynyddoedd Cambrian Mountains, nature, Poetry, seasons, summer, Wales | 3 Comments »
OLD MEN
remaining silent:
no one knows
whether we are becoming wise,
or more foolish.
watching the endless river.
—
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged acquiescence, age, irony, Poetry, wisdom | 2 Comments »
DHRUPAD 23 (green)
Look now green green now.
Even green in the hills, the high cold hills
with their hearts of stone, sniff the green the tips of bracken there
amongst the old debris pink and brown,
so many cold nights
and winds and slow days of so slow heavy rain.
By the thin rivers and
the fast streams the sedges green and growing
that were hog bristle brown, dead and belligerent and wan wan wan.
And even
the clouds even the clouds
so low and slow and fast, tinged now with
a certain green a certain glow a reflected green, a green smile the world
knows
once frosts are gone and the larger days and the cowslips
foaming over the roadsides in drooping cream bee buzzing delight
now.
The pink grey empty slopes over Aberedw peppered
all peppered with hawthorn white and creamly perching there,
a crown for each moment each outcrop tonguing scented air
pert as hounds bright eyed and keen for sunlight warm and honey
smooth.
A green green breakfast it is now
for the hungry hills,
the hungry hills.
—
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Aberedw, blossom, hills, landscape, landscape photography, Mynyddoedd Cambrian Mountains, Poetry, spring, Wales | Leave a Comment »
TO CARRY OUR SORROWS
In rows the villagers sit, all sombre colours,
Come together, knitted for the departed.
Eyes drift to the vast view of grey sky
Not so far from the sea, above the trees and birdsong.
Endless rain feeding the green world below,
Joy feeding sorrows, sorrow feeding joy.
Along the weary road, we know, the wide land unfurls,
But the low clouds have returned and there is nothing
Except what is nearby and what is small and unremarkable.
Long miles along the river valley, down the woods and cowslip banks.
Beside us the endless river shines, then slips again from view.
—
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OFFERING OF THE MANDALA
Mountain breathes out.
I breathe in.
Still air.
Sky turning slowly blue.
A wood pigeon sings its call to prayer.
An offering of hawthorn blossom sprinkles the valley.
There is nothing that cannot be healed.
Nothing that cannot be lost and found.
–
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