A Few Words for Friday

gingko-l

Ginkgo biloba

 

Emerald
gold
copper and bronze
day by day she turns the ring
of her seasons
winding it
on the fingers
of her land
until
taking a breath of cold air
she disrobes
and then puts on
a gown of purest white
sprinkled with diamonds
in which to dream
of seasons
yet to come
until
taking a breath of warm sun
she awakens
with opalescent rainbows
day by day
she turns the ring
again
to emerald

~Harriet Kofalk

A Few Words for Friday

 

dsc_0324-m

This poem is at once clear-eyed and hopeful, traits to strive for on this particular day.

For the Children

The rising hills, the slopes,
of statistics
lie before us,
the steep climb
of everything, going up,
up, as we all
go down.

In the next century
or the one beyond that,
they say,
are valleys, pastures,
we can meet there in peace
if we make it.

To climb these coming crests
one word to you, to
you and your children:

stay together
learn the flowers
go light

~Gary Snyder

A Few Words for Friday

blue-m

Blue Winter

Winter uses all the blues there are.
One shade of blue for water, one for ice,
Another blue for shadows over snow.
The clear or cloudy sky uses blue twice-
Both different blues. And hills row after row
Are colored blue according to how far.
You know the bluejay’s double-blur device
Shows best when there are no green leaves to show.
And Sirius is a winterbluegreen star.

~Robert Francis

A Few Words for Friday

dsc_0755-l

 

December Night

The cold slope is standing in darkness
But the south of the trees is dry to the touch

The heavy limbs climb into the moonlight bearing feathers
I came to watch these
White plants older at night
The oldest
Come first to the ruins

And I hear magpies kept awake by the moon
The water flows through its
Own fingers without end

Tonight once more
I find a single prayer and it is not for men

~W.S. Merwin

A Few Words for Friday

sunrise20014-m

WINTER: TONIGHT: SUNSET

Tonight at sunset walking on the snowy road,
my shoes crunching on the frozen gravel, first

through the woods, then out into the open fields
past a couple of trailers and some pickup trucks, I stop

and look at the sky. Suddenly: orange, red, pink, blue,
green, purple, yellow, gray, all at once and everywhere.

I pause in this moment at the beginning of my old age
and I say a prayer of gratitude for getting to this evening

a prayer for being here, today, now, alive
in this life, in this evening, under this sky.

~David Budbill