Prelude to Spring

A passing shower brings
A prelude to spring.
It dimples and pocks the lake
Creating self-healing divots
Craters and canyons
Painting and sculpting and painting again
The grey liquid canvas.
Watch closely or you might miss it as
The eye jitterbugs from near shore to far
Wanting to register
Each drop as it strikes
A visual cacophony of
Low rollers circling and radiating
Brothers and sisters
Born from above
No two seem  alike
(Though there is
A strong family resemblance).

A sudden burst bring more and more
Radiating circumferences
Shoulder by shoulder
Crossing and blending these
Fluid Venn diagrams,
Now being studied by mallard mathematicians
Paddling across the pond
Wondering if dinner is included with this show?

 Soon, a drier wind sweeps
The grey palette clean
Shape-shifting the water,
With a pause and a stillness,
An ephemeral epilogue
Waiting for the rain to return
Once again.

Frozen

The pond is giving up its heat
Slowly returning summer’s energies skyward
Into the ink black polar night.
Molecules no longer keep pace
With the liquid state and
Soon will morph into a more solid form
Creeping out into the misty waters
Like some frozen tsunami,
Slow and thick and firm
Enough to bear my weight perhaps…
And if I didn’t know better
I might just defy reason
And walk upon this watery illusion.
 
And on that day the
Fish will be looking up at me
Suspended in the dark below
Puzzled by this shift in our realities.
We both will live this frozen life
Of slant-light days
And star pricked nights:
They will pass the time and swim
While I will watch and wonder why.

 

 

 

Springtime Maple

The maple stretches far out over the pond,
Though rooted deeply in the nearby hill side
It is telling us, it seems
That it likes to keep its feet wet.
And so it is doing well
Where fate has planted that one glorious seed


Springtime maple at Long Pond
 

From which it sprouted.
-Some others have also prospered
While countless have floundered-
All things not being equal
When wind wills seeds to fly.
 
Today the seeds are just a dream
A plan within the springtime scheme,
The buds will drop and soon go by
As the sun creeps higher in the sky,
From pond to limb to pond once more
As trees can change from rich to poor,
And flow from life to life each day
And on it goes by nature’s way.