Spring Awakening
Deep in the samadhi of the old pond
soft heavenly weather arrives, light
seeps into rock, enchanted by the eternal tide.
Peepers rise in a chime of bells
clear, connected by ancient notes
deep in the samadhi of the old pond.
Trees read the vernal signs, bear
the knowledge of arrival, their surge
seeps into rock, enchanted by the eternal tide.
The deer stalks through a fine mist
dark among the black trees, shadows
deep in the samadhi of the old pond.
A redwing’s cry shatters time running
and standing, a tinge of rhyme
seeps into rock, enchanted by the eternal tide.
Hope, deep in the samadhi of the old pond,
enchanted by the eternal tide, seeps into rock,
cracks the iron darkness of the heart.
Credit: A version of this poem appeared as “Spring Villanelle” in the chapbook Acrylic Angel of Fate, Finishing Line Press, 2016. I retain the rights.
The Habit of Budding
1
Weaned in its first year
a calf rubs its budding horns
against the fence to feel a heart
pulse back.
2
A tree cut down by nature’s
wise ax will sprout again.
Though its root grows old
in the earth and its stump
dies in open ground,
at the scent of water
it will bud and put forth branches.
Credit: This poem first appeared in the chapbook Acrylic Angel of Fate, Finishing Line Press, 2016. I retain the rights.
A Gathering of Hearts
--If we surrendered to Earth’s intelligence we could rise up rooted
like trees. Rainer Maria Rilke
Monarchs ride the thermals
3000 miles to roost
in the fir groves of Michoacán.
A small gorilla snaps a branch
from the Moabi, tests the depth
of a swampy pool and wades in.
The dotted tuskfish,
picks up a stubborn clam in its mouth,
hurls it against a rock to crack it,
sip out the slippery juices.
A robin, mouth full of straw,
dips her beak in rainwater
to soften the work of weaving a home.
We stand in the love-light
of the Firestar while the whole
northern sky wheels around us--
hearts wide open,
breathing in the night.
Shirley McPhillips is author of the chapbook Acrylic Angel of Fate; books for educators Poem Central: Word Journeys with Readers and Writers; and, with Nick Flynn, A Note Slipped Under the Door: Teaching from Poems We Love. Poems have found homes in publications such as Sewanee Review; Journal of NJ Poets; Edison Literary Review; More Poems for the Delusional; Amore; Allegro-Adagio, and the forthcoming Pendemic Journal. Her poetry was honored with a reading and choreography at the Artists Embassy International Dancing Poetry Festival in San Francisco, CA.
Deep in the samadhi of the old pond
soft heavenly weather arrives, light
seeps into rock, enchanted by the eternal tide.
Peepers rise in a chime of bells
clear, connected by ancient notes
deep in the samadhi of the old pond.
Trees read the vernal signs, bear
the knowledge of arrival, their surge
seeps into rock, enchanted by the eternal tide.
The deer stalks through a fine mist
dark among the black trees, shadows
deep in the samadhi of the old pond.
A redwing’s cry shatters time running
and standing, a tinge of rhyme
seeps into rock, enchanted by the eternal tide.
Hope, deep in the samadhi of the old pond,
enchanted by the eternal tide, seeps into rock,
cracks the iron darkness of the heart.
Credit: A version of this poem appeared as “Spring Villanelle” in the chapbook Acrylic Angel of Fate, Finishing Line Press, 2016. I retain the rights.
The Habit of Budding
1
Weaned in its first year
a calf rubs its budding horns
against the fence to feel a heart
pulse back.
2
A tree cut down by nature’s
wise ax will sprout again.
Though its root grows old
in the earth and its stump
dies in open ground,
at the scent of water
it will bud and put forth branches.
Credit: This poem first appeared in the chapbook Acrylic Angel of Fate, Finishing Line Press, 2016. I retain the rights.
A Gathering of Hearts
--If we surrendered to Earth’s intelligence we could rise up rooted
like trees. Rainer Maria Rilke
Monarchs ride the thermals
3000 miles to roost
in the fir groves of Michoacán.
A small gorilla snaps a branch
from the Moabi, tests the depth
of a swampy pool and wades in.
The dotted tuskfish,
picks up a stubborn clam in its mouth,
hurls it against a rock to crack it,
sip out the slippery juices.
A robin, mouth full of straw,
dips her beak in rainwater
to soften the work of weaving a home.
We stand in the love-light
of the Firestar while the whole
northern sky wheels around us--
hearts wide open,
breathing in the night.
Shirley McPhillips is author of the chapbook Acrylic Angel of Fate; books for educators Poem Central: Word Journeys with Readers and Writers; and, with Nick Flynn, A Note Slipped Under the Door: Teaching from Poems We Love. Poems have found homes in publications such as Sewanee Review; Journal of NJ Poets; Edison Literary Review; More Poems for the Delusional; Amore; Allegro-Adagio, and the forthcoming Pendemic Journal. Her poetry was honored with a reading and choreography at the Artists Embassy International Dancing Poetry Festival in San Francisco, CA.