Night Falls

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Photo: Brian Federle, “Open Gate” Pacific, 2012

 

Night falls

slowly in spring
through trees newly flush
with unfurling leaves.

Birds rush

through swaying limbs
to newly-built nests,
to lives yet to live

as day fades
to shimmering silk,
as stars gleam with

celestial milk.

Morning (Good Friday)

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https://www.flickr.com/photos/tambako/5829098353/in/photolist-4Kx16z-ecPUED-ebBifu-8i3JQZ-9hVoH9-e5LpLV-btyAdw-6XzVqF-qYzHeE-cdxRC-dSTda4-9iJAV2-9T6DRK-ezu419-bTTTMX-6cVcVw-8CBwoQ-6cPDQ2-8zpm83-9Jvqks-8xMURf-7SWjys-f5eev-noweMv-66GtBJ-8C31Ss-4UUMa5-4zDwwk-ehuk1A-687mU2-9MuBKP-7BCRfM-HaT11-nmMbae-9icGzx-bEETYh-84uTRc-6o6dz1-7Toidh-bRuWiz-4R91qJ-bMfgzX-9B3PR8-7Mp8xG-9CoiFa-f3pjh-buw3Kj-7QoJzu-6o7KvG-nDmpF8/

Therefore let me know trust in the feelings of my heart.
My hope is in what the hand of man has never touched.
Do not let me trust what I can grasp between my fingers.
Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude.

Young grass
high and thick

drenched
filled to brim,

by morning sun released,
a fury of green, trees

believing that golden day
will stay.

Persist, oh life,
in the cold of winter,

and beat, oh heart!
With tender heat

as a while yet
I breathe!

(6 April 2012
rev April 2019)

Hope at Sunset

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Photo: Brian Federle, Oregon, 2014

Across the fading valley
The silver bay shines,
effulgent edge
under twilight hills.

Confined
flat waters
cut a thin line
beneath dark heights.

Saw-toothed ridges
rip thin clouds
to ragged shreds —

the plunging sun ignites
the resplendent light
of love
for this sad, winter world.

Evening Prayer

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Wind stirs in expectation; it
softly strokes my face.

The March sun reassures me,
warms pale flesh
through layers of thick sweater
and winter coat.

Under indigo hills
new grass flows,
yellow and green,

as past distant ranges,
to the sky-bright, rounded sea
he flees and sends us
a gift of clouds,
aflame
in glory.

Peace be with the grass of the fields!
Peace
to dark hills and drifting clouds,
and to the sacrificial sun
peace!

The Goodness of March

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Photo: S. Federle

The goodness of March,
rain, strong winds,
buds swelling —
the everyday
resurrection.

The tree
we planted last year
on the first anniversary
of your passing
is blooming,

its small, pink bursts
quietly exploding
in the green glow
after the storm.

I smile to see it —
thin, wavering limbs
climbing to the sky, defiant
in the March wind.

Are you smiling too?

Immanence

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I know you stroll
beyond Andromeda
gazing on Magellanic Clouds,
but I cannot see that far.

I am stardust
to Earth-fallen.

Yet I seek you in the autumn rain,
hear you singing in the evening wind.

Your breath fills my empty lungs,
your smile lights
my darkened eyes,
and my heart overflows
with your sacred blood —

love spilling,
Earth-fulfilling.

Gloria

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Pacifica Sunset.jpg

Photo, Brian Federle: Pacifica Sunset

 

Sudden light
flares in the eastern sky.

 

Bright clouds burst
and consume the void
with glory.

 

The newborn child,
wrinkled and pink, warms
in his mother’s embrace

 

and waits for the stunned world
to exhale.

 
(23 December 2012)

Lazarus Waiting

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Mendocino Sundial 2016

Photo Brian Federle: Mendocino Sundial 2016

 

falling sun, life swarming
in the liquid light
as I gaze west, through trees,
over houses, over slatted-fence,
towards the waiting, unseen sea.

a foraging bird drops to my mown lawn
(taking note of my still form)
and pecks out her meal…and flies away.

My apple-tree bends towards heaven
new leaves unfolding;
surely it will be leaf-full by Easter!

so I’ll wait for the world to turn
yet another slight degree, for the lines
of golden light to lengthen towards me
and then end in gentle night.

Sunrise

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Photo: Sunrise Orcas Island, 2014.  Brian Federle
“Sunrise is an event that calls forth solemn music in the very depths of man’s nature, as if one’s whole being has to attune itself to the cosmos and praise God for the new day, praise Him in the name of all the creatures that ever were or ever will be.”  Thomas Merton, Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander
Oh call me softly
in the morning!
With winter’s sun
paint golden
the pale trees.
In deep waters,
in cool ponds brush my
legs, caress
my tender feet.
Your breath flies
through the green
canyons.
With tongues
of flame
 oh, ravish me!

The Light in November

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Photo: Brian Federle, Oregon, 2012.

 

The light in November slants low.
It fills my eyes as I glance
askance through amber trees
and see the leaves descend in
gold flashes
past my open window.

The autumn sun skirts
my low Suisun hills
casting deep shadows
along the ebbing marsh

where wading egrets probe
still, black waters

and finding their prize
rise to blue heaven,
white, slender wings
elegantly beating
the softly falling sun.

(2012-2017)