Poems, Personal Stories, and Observations

Posts tagged ‘geese’

January 25, East of Cincinnati

For five days, they say,
Highs will be above freezing.
Snow will melt, then freeze at night,
And in the dark morning, black ice will be teasing.

(Winter’s almost two-thirds gone,
If you’re meteorological,
Or only one-third gone,
If you’re astronomical.
It all depends on your perspective.)

We crossed a bridge over the river.
Partly frozen, layers of ice and snow.
The paralyzed water, waiting for sunlight
To let the torrents flow.

We put our Christmas decorations away.
It’s good to work in the chilly sun.
You come awake — each breath you take
Brings life and health, and a little wheezing.

I fill the bird feeders full of seeds –
The birds have needs.
From bare branches they fly and feed;
Chipmunks and squirrels get the fallen seed.

I go for a walk in the sunny afternoon.
I see a single robin, NOT singing a tune.
For many months I have not seen them,
Waiting for the sun to free them.

Twelve inches of snow from two weeks ago
Have mostly melted, but the wind is cold.
I pull up my hood, and the sun feels good.
It’s actually pleasant, amazingly.

Geese have left their droppings
On sidewalk and street,
And left their footprints in the snow.
Rabbits and deer make their tracks complete.

People are out, walking in the sun,
Or being walked by their dogs.
I come inside, where it’s pleasantly warm,
And sit by the fire of fake logs.

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The Geese Fly South

Why do the geese fly south,
Through never-ending seasons,
Only to fly north again?

I cannot comprehend the rhythms of life,
Like making a bed,
Only to have it messed up again.

Perhaps the rhythms, like an endless tide,
Or waves that ebb and flow, go “left” and “right”,
Give glory to God, in every season.

We need a rhyme; we need a reason.

We need the heat, the cold — if I may be so bold.
We need the peace of winter freezing,
The new spring buds our nostrils teasing,
The summer heat, and frenzied days,
That turn to autumn — the harvest phase.

The work, the play, exhaustion, rest,
The climax, quiet, the tears, the jest,
The hardship, ease, the stress, the peace,
Success and failure; they never cease.

Up and down, pride and shame,
Through it all, our God’s the same,
And every breath we ever take,
He watches tirelessly, for our sake.

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Autumn

A hint of chill,
A wisp of crispness
in the air.
A gentle breeze,
Just slightly cold.
An achy joint,
If you are old.

The geese are flying
And clouds are lying
in lazy drifts —
Their white belying
The darker clouds to come.

We pull the sweaters
From our dressers —
the furnace on.
The harvest dawn —
The crops are gathered
And birds are scattered.

What is the reason
For changing seasons?
To keep awake
And not to take
for granted —
The wonder of creation.

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