This poem lay dormant for months, seeded in the waning days of autumn, when I wrote Anthem. Finally, spring is here with "A shout of triumph / An anthem of joy." Tight, verdant buds dot the naked limbs laid bare in winter, and a chartreuse film covers the ground greened in new grass raised from … Continue reading Spring (Finally)
Tag: nature
Holy Week: Nature Tells The Truth
Maybe you've shoveled compost into your garden beds, mixing the dark organic matter that some gardeners call "black gold" into your native soil. Or, maybe you've walked into the woods and inhaled the moist, verdant fragrance of humus, that soft, springy top layer of the forest floor. What does that fresh, earthy fragrance have in … Continue reading Holy Week: Nature Tells The Truth
On the Way Home
We drove past the Reservoir on the way home. The day is grim winter gray punctuated by bare trees and piles of wet lifeless leaves. It is sprinkling. The temperature is cool enough for light layers and warm enough to feel muggy. This is not a day to delight in nature. This is a day … Continue reading On the Way Home
This I Know
XVI. This I Know Sometimes devastation pummels from a charcoal sky at noon, but a dark sky doesn't change day to night. Night will only come when earth turns her face from sun. Proverbs 3:5-16, Joshua 23:14 K. Ashby
Silent Shout
XV. Anyone can see those pale curves were molded by a master. No amount of dust, no darkened corner can hide the same truth told by the sun as it sinks into lavender mountains-- rustling, fragrant trees hug glinting streams, uncurling ferns, a dragonfly wing-- the creation reveals its creator with a silent shout. K. … Continue reading Silent Shout
Anthem
XIV. When the air chills and the light dims, Autumn flames, then falls-- All that glory ground into the winter wet earth With other dead things-- Because in winter Life lies beneath, devouring death, Transforming all the rot and worthless things To cradle life, holding it in trust Until warmth and light return And the … Continue reading Anthem
Next Year’s Fruit
VII. No, leave that one on the ground. Don’t be fooled by the ruddy lustre captivating your tongue’s imagination. It looks like a crisp bite, a mouthful of firm flesh and sweet juice. Turn it over. See where the taut skin thinned, failed open to marauders. Leave it. Let it nourish next year’s fruit. K. … Continue reading Next Year’s Fruit
In the Company of Trees
Six years ago, when my family moved from a suburban lot in Texas to the feet of Great Smoky Mountain National Park, I felt we had entered Eden. Rivers brimmed with water, the landscape curved voluptuous, and trees covered hills and mountains in the rich, warm shades of autumn. Soon after our arrival, I wrote the following. I … Continue reading In the Company of Trees
In the Quiet 