Here in the mountains night creatures roam, day has not
yet stretched rays of sunlight over the land, birds are still
tucked tightly into tree branches, tiny beaks buried in fluffy
breast down, eyes closed as they breathe in rhythms
too subtle to notice, dreaming dreams we cannot fathom
while elk roam open fields, grazing on dew-laden grasses
and cattle doze in groups meant to protect them
from predators while tiny rodents gather seeds
and detritus to kit out their burrows;
Ice has broken, snow opens now into flowing waters
that gather into dry gullies that swirl in streams seeking
rivers which yearn for the sea, if humans have not drawn
them dry before the cycle is completed, while buds collect
like tiny dark knots on tree branches, and I water deeply
with the hose, creating a false spring here in the high
arid country, shaking shovelfuls of manure into driplines,
trimming dead growth meant to protect tender new shoots
during the harsh cold of a long winter;
Awaken now the glorious pale rose of day, as the planet
rotates her face nearer the sun and we await the light
too many take for granted, while life still thrums
in soil and sky, the milky way hidden now from view,
yet always there, moon and stars, and the yawning
blackness of universes beyond.
here on the ranch ~ bj 2013
Sweet early spring… gorgeous photo, love that luminous light!
Me too! Thanks, Eliza! 🪴💦😉❤️
A wonderful poem and a gorgeous photo!
Thanks, Ashley! 🙏❤️
What a beautiful Image you paint with your words Bela… I was memorised by the visualisation within my mind of your descriptions… <3 Beautiful photo too xx <3
Thanks, Sue! Glad to promote good visualizations! 😉❤️
Western skies are amazing.
I like the quiet energy that runs through your words. (K)
Thanks, my friend. 🙏❤️
Beautiful!
Thanks, David. 🙏