The soft colors of budding trees,
deep greens of fir and cedar,
the startled look of squirrel,
the steady gaze of crow,
the sound of breaching whales
and high pitched cries of eagle,
human faces vast in number,
the star reach broad and clear.
On and on the roll call of creation,
ten thousand times a thousand
and still the surface barely scratched
while here I sit, a pin prick of light
within the fathomless gift.
Perhaps tomorrow I will count the birds
or soft-bellied slugs on their journey,
the herring as they ball and run
and these old man hands
set upon the page.
May wonder keep me open
when darkness descends,
the edges of mystery unravelling
into the waiting arms
of night’s starlit basket.
photograph by Patrick Orleman
Reading of “Night Basket” with music by Ahura
This is my favorite of all your poems so far! Thanks!
A beautiful tribute to The Web that weaves us all…
Thank you, Brother!
This is the perfect view of what we need to see and need to experience.
May trumpets sing in our hearts and minds over the fathomless gift. Don, I am grateful for your wondrous ability to be a Word master!
Don, there is never a doubt about the state of your wonder. You are open, clearly open.
There is a quote somewhere in literature, “Oh, what a tangled web we weave…” Yet there is a wondrous Web of Life that is perfect, as demonstrated by nature’s artist, the spider. My soul is called to your island, to break through the tangled web of human concerns and good intentions, and emerge breathless, and full of wonderment at the sights and sounds of early spring, of breaching whales, calls of eagles and crows, journeying slugs. Most especially to breathe deeply in the fullness of the night’s starlit basket. Don, those of us who share in your poetry are so deeply blessed. Thank you.
“May wonder keep me open”,,that is my prayer, Don!
Open heart, open mind, let the flood of life course through us. This is not a luxury. It is a necessity. Thank you Don for the lovely cornucopia.
” here I sit, a pin prick of light
within the fathomless gift.”
A pinprick of light is not a tiny thing, it is part of the fathomless gift.
The great immensity sustained in music song and spoken word, the Creator’s Voice reshapes — on and on the roll call of creation — all that lives within the Arc that stretches from night basket to that inverted bowl we call the dawning day — and now the winter count is done, naming begins another round, so sweet your Word, your Voice my friend. db
Truly wonder-ful, oh sage.
And yes, wonder is ever my guiding star too.
Your words are filled with passion and light for our wondrous world… Hildegard von Bingen, the visionary 12th abbess called it “veriditas” or greening power, the pulse of the earth and heart (I just posted a spring photo essay focused on her work)…we have so much to be grateful for as we carefully and lovingly steward our world…