poem: an economy of words

poem: an economy of words

writing over a lifetime
one uses tens of thousand words
baring one’s innermost soul
to the light

words can collect like rain
in the lowlands
and burst forth
in a torrent

and words can be
hard to come by
hidden in the darkness
of stultifying events

one can be filled
to over-brimming
and one can be empty
to the core

now exiled on the high knob
in the dry desert
in hopes dark clouds pour
releasing the light of new life

Herb Stone
July 19, 2022
here&now working poetry

photo by author

haiku: late snow

haiku: late snow

the late winter snow
covering the Lenten Rose
Easter’s lily comes

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
March 13, 2022

images unattributed

Author’s note: We had a big,
cold winter snow in Nashville
yesterday. About six inches
deep, and I thought of the
Lenten Rose I had seen
blooming a few day before
on a much warmer day.

poem: the bluebird and wren returning to nest on Bird Heaven Hill are a boon

poem: the bluebird and wren
returning to nest on

Bird Heaven Hill are a boon

neither winter’s harshness
nor war’s evil
keeps the the forces of nature
from its way

the spring season
brings the bluebird and wren
back to their nest
precisely on spring’s first day*

the bluebird inspects
its house
as the wren chirps on high
announcing its arrival

within the natural order
of the universe harmonic
forces flow as all things
work together for the good

and so our weary souls
seek the light
from its pall to
rebirth and resurrection

like the birds nesting
in the ‘lil woods,
putting our house in order
and singing the new day

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
March 20, 2022

videos by the author

*Author’s note: March 1st. is
the beginning of meteorological
Spring.

 

poem: the creek in winter

poem: the creek in winter

chilly winter day
the sun in a cloudless sky
warms stiff faces

mindfully walking the creek
flowing loudly and rapid
from the snow and rain

it’s cold waters finding
their way telling us
all we need to know

spying the chickadee
in the cattail
of the wet bog

walking the muddy trail,
crisscrossed in shadow,
covered in winter’s detritus

gratitude filling us
as we travel back home
the sun over our shoulder

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
January 11, 2022

photos by author