Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

Saturday, July 4, 2020

Poetry: In-Tent Desire

In-Tent Desire

Cushioning softness
your warm belly
The Buddha
gave this up for
thin straw mats
on bare floors
whatever ground
of our being being
Who knows what other
folly might well indwell
that Eightfold Path?

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, June 27, 2020

Poetry: Summit

Summit

Wind dances atop
Crane Mountain
blowing sideways
No mosquitoes
fewer deerflies
No sweat beads
bud on face or neck
as the trail dries too
Nature balances
costs and benefits.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, June 13, 2020

Poetry: Downpour

Downpour

Downpour,
The sibilance of the storm
Sings softly.
Sheets of sound muffle crashes.
Tears are in the rain,
As is celebration,
Warm mother’s milk flows,
Purifying, fortifying,
The torrent insulates and inspires.
This is the simplicity of the beginning of things.
How elemental is this paradigm,
Things are nurtured because they exist,
Things exist because they are nurtured.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Tuesday, May 26, 2020

Poetry: When Will Life Be Gentle Again?

When will life be gentle again?

When will the ethers embrace us once more,

Kiss our upturned faces,

Forgive us our simple pleasantries, our playfulness,

Our innocence, our childishness, our embraces,

Our spontaneity, our casual fearlessness,

Our joy.  All we took for granted.

When will life be gentle again?

Have we used up all our chances?

Did we believe we had a finite number?

God, how much more do we stand to lose

If we do not change now, turn our faces

To a different, harder path,

But a path no less.

When will life be gentle again?

Please save our children, do not let their green shoots,

Wither and die, in this cold.

Please do not reap our elders too soon, and alone,

They are the source of our knowledge and our grace.

Do not allow this bitter wind to use us as a killing field

When will life be gentle again?

 

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Sunday, May 17, 2020

Poetry: Nundegao Ridge

Nundegao Ridge

On a table monolith
granite veined by quartz
like so many zippers
The children dance
in rock rain reservoirs
Nibble blueberries
Wind-protected
Hare-bells dance
on the ledge below
as hawk bursts out
below us forty feet
to rise on a thermal
Hollow hawk bones
soon “cloud-hidden
whereabouts unknown”

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Sunday, May 10, 2020

Poetry: My Harbor

My Harbor

A bottomless moat between us widens like a sea wall,
Against the waves that threaten.
I cry raindrops, in a city cordoned like a stone cage,
Impenetrable.
“Help me!”, I cry out.
Your answer echoes softly, “I am here.”,
So faintly, so faintly,
Wistful words floating through the burdened air,
Dangerous ether kept at bay, at a distance,
Only by distance.
Like a ship stranded in a windless ocean,
I cannot raise my sails, I cannot find my course,
I cannot navigate,
Until you speak again, “I am here.”
True North, true North, you are my harbor.
Sweetest breeze plays upon my face, pure,
As I see your light breaking through the bleakest of mist,
To light my way home, and I know
I am saved.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Poetry: Confined

Author’s note: The first weekend in May is my usual time for a backpacking trip. It is usually the best time of the year for it. No bugs, few others around and reasonably good weather. However, this year it pains me to know it is best to stay home no matter how much the mountains and lakes call me. Instead, I wrote about past snapshots of experiences on this weekend. — Wade Bittle

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Sunday, April 26, 2020

Poetry: Cabin Generations

Cabin Generations

Mom’s great grandkids
chatter like crickets
who sport human frames
busy-busy all day long
In the big tent now they
nap breathing deeply
as their dreams map out
who knows what trails?

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, April 25, 2020

Poetry: Learn

Learn

My plane is not yet spirit,
I am in flux, always,
Fighting between body and soul.
The sultry air calms me,
Reminds me,
To always
Look up.
Surely you can find your way,
Wind whispers in my ear.
Watch how birds traverse the wild sky,
Mind to mind, they are linked,
Over miles,
Keeping pace
As one.
Butterflies speak in soft tongues,
Imparting lessons learned.
Though their breadth of life may be brief,
They live colors of hope,
Taking all,
And giving all
They are.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Sunday, April 19, 2020

Poetry: Mommy Is Always With You

Mommy Is Always With You

Inspired by parents, healthcare workers and first responders, who have paid the ultimate sacrifice in these hard times.

Easter  bunnies and Easter chicks,
May peep from your pillow quite changed.
No Easter egg hunts will we see for awhile,
But, mommy is always with you, my child.

Bunny ears are hand-sewn and stitched,
Next year you will have them brand new.
Colored paper is grass in a home-made style,
And, mommy is always with you, my child.

Let me hold you so very  close,
Let me keep you away from harm.
Together we’ll bake bread and play ‘till we smile,
Yes, mommy is always with you, my child.

At end of day, our prayers we pray,
As I put my baby to sleep
Though we both may never forget this hard trial,
Your mommy was always with you, my child.

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Monday, April 13, 2020

Poetry: Beyond This Moment

Beyond This Moment

Over wires and wavelengths, searching for a spark…
Connecting…losing connection..Ground Control, we have a problem…
Cowering, grasping the frayed edges of a receding world,
Watching it flounder in an apocalyptic ebb-tide of grief, hubris, delusion…
The bitter cold of it gnawing our bones.
Brother, can you spare a word?  Brother, can you spare a touch?
Not safe, not yet, nor knowing when that yet may be.
Building towers and moats that imprison insidiously,
Until precious thoughts cannot climb to an open window,
Grappling, we tether loved ones to our breathless bodies,
To float them, as the ark is filled with holes,
Pleading, “If we die, even though we die, let us die… Not. Alone.”
Tired hands break the water, submerge, then rise again to prove,
That hope lives.
We hold tightly to each other over airwaves, and in numbers, find strength.
Our hearts believe the promise of salvation, given to us in blood.
We are loved. We are forgiven.  We are.. “Not. Alone”.
A dove flies above us, carrying a green branch in its mouth.
It sings a sweet song and its music gives purchase in the rising storm.
We are children of a higher grace.  We are part of a divine plan.
We are stronger than this and We. Can. Survive…Beyond this moment.

 

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Sunday, April 12, 2020

Poetry: Back at the Cabin

Back at the Cabin

Breeze soughs among
uphill poplar stands
Newborn Rachel’s clothes
hang out to Sun-dry
White-throated sparrow
drops her final note
whose loud lack haunts
consciousness all day
Expectation unfulfilled
pattern recognition lost

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Sunday, April 5, 2020

Poetry: For Marion Higley

For Marion Higley

Light-filled woman, she,
College-taught and Bishop’s wife,
Baptized on a worn, porcelain-metal table
In a plank house on the edge of pine woods.
Woman of tenderness, she,
Washing sand from the sun-warmed limbs of
Three fair daughters and a wheaten-haired baby son,
With hand-pumped well-water in a porcelain sink-basin,
While scented sun motes danced around their heads,
And laughter floated out across the rippling lake.

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Wednesday, April 1, 2020

Poetry: Changes

Changes

Broken by brief rain
dull heat disappears
tail between its clouds
I recall late-August
mornings as a child
dressing by the fire
Oatmeal bubbled thick
in big blackened pot
Mountains unmoved
since we went to bed
Clouds now crest them
heavily like a toddler
riding your shoulders

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.


Saturday, March 21, 2020

Poetry: A Child With You

 

A Child With You

Like smudge
marks from
burnt sage

You arrived
at the moment I
needed to touch your

Golden hair
and peach
white belly

Rolling in the mud
by the oak trees

I am
a child with you

Oshkosh B’gosh
overalls and eyelashes

raised like
prayer flags

at the one act of mercy,
we all know
never happens

the way it
is supposed to

Read More Poems From The Adirondack Almanack HERE.



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