gurgling water
redwoods sighing
peace
Note: All the plants in this 78 acre garden are native to the area including the coastal redwoods.
Santa Barbara Botanical Garden
nature
Spring at The Huntington
Breezes caress
Scents of jasmine, roses
Rainbow colors
These are growing on a large rock.
Imagine–1
Imagine a world full of roses.
Simple Pleasures
Taste the honey on your tongue
avocado, dark brown
clover, golden
so many shades, textures
sweetness
pleasure
Feel the breeze caress your cheeks
bringing scents
honeysuckle
lilacs
peach blossoms
pleasure
Touch the silken fabric of your scarf
wind softness around you
midnight and snow
rainbows
desert sunsets
pleasure
Listen to the birds outside your window
mockingbird love songs
a rapture’s scream
the whir of hummingbird wings
emerald, indigo, grey
pleasure
Look at flowers blooming everywhere
crimson bougainvillea
roses, sunshine colors
pale pink, vermillion
beauty
pleasure
Sing a song of Gratitude
April Is Poetry Month–3 poems for the first three days
I am a bit behind so decided to share three poems I wrote more than ten years ago about my favorite animal obsession, pumas. These poems were first published in my poetry memoir, On the Rim of Wonder, which is available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.
I
My neighbor walked out her door
found a puma lying in the lawn.
Puma rose, stretched, disappeared.
At night when I open my gate
I wonder if she lurks
behind the cedar trees,
Pounce ready.
My daughter dreams puma dreams:
a puma chases her up a tree.
There are no trees here big enough to climb.
A Zuni puma fetish guards my sleep.
I run with puma
Night wild
Free.
I scream and howl
Moonstruck
Bloodborn.
I hike the canyon,
stroll around my house,
look for puma tracks.
I see none.
I would rather die by puma
than in a car wreck.
II
I watch for eyes, blue changing to amber and back.
I put my palm, fingers stretched to measure, into the footprint.
Too small, bobcat.
No puma.
My thin body squeezes between the rocks,
climbing quietly down the cliff.
Watching, listening, searching.
No puma.
Pale amber rushes across my vision line.
My heart quakes.
I watch; I wait.
It is Isabella, a golden whir chasing rabbits.
No puma.
At sunrise, I walk the rim,
watching.
At sunset, I walk the rim,
waiting.
At night, I walk the rim,
dreaming.
No puma, not yet.
III
I want
to walk
with you
in my dreams
scream your screams
feel your blood
rushing
your heartbeat
mine
soft golden fur
wound in my hair
your amber eyes
glowing
through my brown
death defying
together walking
moonlit
wild
free
Note: My puma obsession continues. This painting and several others of pumas hang in my house. I now have two puma Zuni fetishes. I hike in the mountains hoping to see one in the wild.
Sunday Poem
This morning snow capped mountains
brought me joy.
In afternoon I
strolled through gardens,
lunched with daughter near gurgling streams.
Flowers smiled at me,
A bamboo forest beckoned.
Nature’s beauty overcame negativity, despair.
We will
Endure
Overcome.
Book Three for 2025: “”A Psalm for the Wild-Built”, Becky Chambers
This book is part of a group read at the church where I sing. Classified as science fiction because it occurs in a society on the moon of a different planet far into the future, it is the cheeriest science fiction I have ever read. One of the main characters, Sibling Dex, is a tea monk who travels from town to town, village to village, dispensing the right herbal tea and “advice” to the people who come to see him. He becomes frustrated and bored with this life and decides to head out into the countryside, out into the untouched nature where all the old roads are overgrown or now non-existent.
Due to past experiences, these humans have freed all the robots after they became sentient, and they have an agreement as to where each lives. In addition, humans have decided to live very differently, leave a lot of nature to nature and so live only in certain areas, in bigger towns and small villages with some nature here and there, but most of nature is now untouched and left to do whatever nature does.
Dex heads out in his tea house wagon which he pedals to generate electricity. It is self containing and he has everything he needs for at least two weeks. At one campsite not too far into the wilderness, a robot named Mosscap appears. Mosscap has volunteered to go into human territory per the ancient agreement between humans and robots and learn about humans. Dex finds this a mixture of frightening, intriguing, and confusing. Yet he agrees to allow Mosscap to accompany him on his adventure. The rest of the book is about what they discover, what they learn from each other, and the future they plan.
Tis The Season
Tis the season to…
Feel joy when the morning
sun caresses your face;
Laugh when you hear
children playing in the
street;
Give thanks for being alive,
having friends and family;
Walk down your street or
take a hike, touch a flower,
a tree and appreciate nature’s
simple bounties;
Remember the time your
loved one took your face
in gentle hands and smiled;
Give the gift of kindness,
peace, and compassion to everyone,
strangers, friends, family,
the unknown;
Promise yourself to live your
best self in the year to come,
to never forget that life
is a gift.
Book 28 for 2024: “Gun Island”, Amitav Ghosh
A tale based on a Bengali legend about a merchant called the Gun Merchant, Bonduki Sadagar, this novel not only takes place in the mangrove swamps of the Sundarbans but also in Venice. It has nothing to do with guns but demonstrates how differences in language use among languages and translations can lead to total mistranslation. The narrator is an older, male, Bengali, rare book dealer who grew up in Kolkata but now lives in Brooklyn most of the year and goes back “home” occasionally. When he meets a distant relative by chance at a party, he finds himself enmeshed in the Gun Merchant tale and finds himself in search of a remote shrine where a king cobra lives. His adventure leads him to meet two young men and reconnect with an old friend, an Italian woman who is a famous historian.
What fascinated me most about this novel was learning all about the immense number of historical connections between the Bengali part of India and Venice especially related to trade and persons of Jewish descent. It is also filled with lessons in relationships among languages and history. For example, I learned the origin of the word ghetto. During the 17th century a part of Venice, Getto, was where their large and prosperous Jewish population was forced to live, Venice being one of few European cities where Jews were safe. Thus the word designating a part of the city became the word ghetto.
It is also a story about the risks and dangers of immigrants trying to get to Europe. I learned many Bengalis, mostly from Bangladesh, live in Venice and the numerous historical connections between the Bengali speaking areas of the world and Venice.
A Poem for National Poetry Month
roses
rainbow colors
joy
writingontherim 