fledgling rustles leafbed caution grows on bold first flight holding our breaths
As parent, I look on as someone's child on tender wings embarks on spring's first flight.
Paul Guernsey © 2020
fledgling rustles leafbed caution grows on bold first flight holding our breaths
As parent, I look on as someone's child on tender wings embarks on spring's first flight.
Paul Guernsey © 2020
Into the dark I walk before the sun has set her feet upon the coming day. I am her progeny, her brightest son, my head held level with each newborn ray.
Each rhythmic step extends a foot to span
an emptiness unseen, each step an act
of faith that solid Earth awaits, that Man
in time will once again confirm as fact
the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God.
On muffled owlish wing a stream of thoughts,
as distant rumbling thunder, answer laud
to life's unending, questing astronauts.
Against the dark auroral lights are seen.
Against the silence ringing steps do glean.
Paul Guernsey, © 2020
The mountain mists ascend to meet the sky,
above; the dew drops swirl in sacred cloud,
enlisting winds to carry them to parts unknown,
till dropping from the sky once more, "On, Life."
Imperious command the liquid bonds
that flow good things to those in need: "On, Life."
We are a mystery you will not solve
for eons hence, for now just watch and glow.
blank verse by Paul Guernsey, © 2019/10/26
I have visited the Smoky and Blue Ridge mountains many times at different times of year and different times of day, but today was the first time I noticed that the mists were actually moving, rising to the sky. How beautiful. How many others had noticed this before, for how many millennia? This generation comprehends the cycle at a molecular level, but how deeply does our understanding go?
I also wonder what other forces constrain the vastness from the depths of space, forces that allowed the conception of life to take. Example: If Earth has an iron core, which spinning generates our protective ionosphere, how did it get there?
The father bird is spelled and leaves their crowded nest. As mother settles in, and hatchling chicks peep welcoming hellos. A moment’s pause upon a nearby branch, and he is off. He”s off to Wade in shallow waters in the failing dusky light, to hunt to fish, but first to stretch his wings in freedom’s friendly flight.
The Water’s Way* is not a patient man.
More like a fickle lover, who cannot
make up his mind and choose a mate,
but washes down the path of lowest strain.
And nor is Rock as solid as it sounds,
Whose meteoric birth and silty death
are but a cycle much like water’s constant
churn from cloud to rain to sea and ice.
“Upon this rock I will build my church,”
as Jesus spoke to Peter, Petra, Rock.
This metaphoric church is built on nothing
more than future sand or fire scalded
molten magma ooze – a metamorphic
church as surely as the protolithic
sandstone to a hardened quartzite sets.
The Water’s Way is formed by Rocks, and Rocks,
though prominent, are merely islands on
a plastic sea, and though they mark our way,
and stud our maps, they are but passing ships,
as transient as stars, whose constellations
sway and drift appart upon the sky
as eons pass. And so, our Gods no more
than drifters are, and no more patient than
the passing waves.
Paul Guernsey Player © 2019/02/07
*in response to this sentence from Low Tide, by Brightly Blue:
“Now as I looked down, the receding water revealed a wealth of complex shapes where the rugged promontory is wearing away bit by bit, as water works its infinitely patient way through rock.”
Today’s views, by country:
Thanks, Guernsey!
See also…
wings that hug the sea
with beak that swallows fishes
whole flock dives as one
Paul Guernsey Player © 2019/02/06
winter squirrels rutting
what better time to do it
florida’s seasons
But rutting is by far too coarse a word,
for what the squirrels have done is honest play.
And winter is by far too strong a word,
so far they are from hibernation’s sleep.
young buck’s urgent press
the doe’s unguarded yielding
once more, yes, again
So, out they came to frolic and cavort,
to leap and romp and spring in crisp fresh air.
springtime pups brewing
tiny buns in the oven
unknown joys ahead
a blank renku by Paul Guernsey Player, © 2019/01/11
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blank renku – a form of linked verse, written by one or multiple authors in alternating collaboration. Blank renku differs from renku in that stanzas alternate between haiku form, and blank verse. The shortest blank verse stanza would be a couplet. The longest would fill a Post It note, the original (fictional) medium of blank renku, as invented for The Blank Verse Mystery. Variations are expected.
Blank renku can be played as a game, in the original spirit of renku. It merges poetry from East and West. Writers can choose to write in their stronger form or in their weaker one, and in this way it is similar to Terry Pratchett’s game of THUD.
gulf coast winter's dawn gentle rains upon my face dimness lights my steps
As moisture laden southern winds shift east the leading edge of cooler breezes speak of days without a broiling summer sun;
precious is the light day contrasts with darkest night magic lies between
as newly risen golden rays backlight the earth-bound clouds and under cast their silken haze with subtle green and yellow hue;
waterfall of rain droplets grow into cascade splashes sing as one
a blank renku* by Paul Guernsey Player, © 2018/12/09
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*blank renku – a form of linked verse, written by one or multiple authors in alternating collaboration. Blank renku differs from renku in that stanzas alternate between haiku form, and blank verse. The shortest blank verse stanza would be a couplet. The longest would fill a Post It note, the original (fictional) medium of blank renku, as invented for The Blank Verse Mystery. Variations are expected.
Blank renku can be played as a game, in the original spirit of renku. It merges poetry from East and West. Writers can choose to write in their stronger form or in their weaker one, and in this way it is similar to Terry Pratchett’s game of THUD.
More on blank renku here.
soar hover dive strike early winter's sunrise flight chilly morning dip water warms as talons sink climb as earth turns toward the sun any scavengers about listen for their nasty caws lazy seagull scum living on their own they die barely fly and can't catch fish catch's gills still flare osprey rips the eyes out first lives another day light grows warm below the rim heart grows warm in early chill
Paul Guernsey Player, © 2018/12/06