A thousand-life symphony’s run, bare beauty heaving, beat rain like raw, honeyed mist sprayed in Spring. Never swim fast through storm how I like; if I sit here and dream, you want me. Cool skin boils when frantic fingers drive. Water woman watch and chant language of blue for what was and why; she cry…
Category: nature
Dverse – MTB/Form – Ginkgo Circuitry
I’ve been waiting for awhile now You hug me as I hug sky now My cool bark ‘gainst your warm skin Tree and human; sky are kin Feel the circuit now a-hum Atoms swirling as if one I’ve been waiting for awhile now You hug me as I hug sky now This poem was inspired…
D.C. Circuit Rejects Oglala Sioux Tribe Challenge to Uranium Mine — Turtle Talk
Excerpt from the Tribal Brief: This case concerns the proposed Dewey-Burdock in situ leach uraniumextraction project in the Black Hills of South Dakota. The project lands are withinthe traditional aboriginal territory of the Tribe and included in the 1851 FortLaramie Treaty and the 1868 Fort Laramie Treaty (15 Stat., 635). The Project areais known to…
dVerse — Monday Quadrille — My type
Photo is used with permission by fabulous photographer, Pat, at Chronicles Of An Anglo Swiss. my type blows blue, clouds up, purges skies of subtlety. puffs petrichor into dusty nostrils, quivers stemhairs, stirs windchimes; the type that makes the call still sparks where wyrms enter, their tidings pleased roar Yinglong’s regard embodies fortunes freefalling, pummeling,…
Tough Love — Micro of the Macro
Please take a few minutes of your time to look at the beauty that is threatened by us carrying on as usual. Please read Lisa at Micro of the Macro’s post — then take action. The world as we know it depends on it. All photos were taken inside Yosemite National Park in California before…
raindrops (tanka)
thick drops of wet plop on the dusty greenhouse glass night storm brings cool air wind chimes as fulfilled promise hopeful times are here
dVerse — Prosery — The magic of rain
I wandered lonely as a cloud. –by William Wordsworth, from his eponymous poem Seeing a cumulus puff amongst cirrocumulus sheets made the mountain dragon laugh. “You’re an anachronism!” Try as I might to slough off the words, his throaty grumbles clung like heavy ice crystals. They turned my cushiony cotton into spiked crackles which shredded…
Tao Talk 