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Tag Archives: poetry

I’m Guilty, I Confess

 

 

 

 

 

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Daily Blessings

 

While we often spend our days

Worrying

About 

The past and the future,

We often miss 

The beauty

Each day has to offer

Just outside our tattered windows.

 
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Posted by on April 4, 2011 in Photography, poetry, Quiet Times, Reflections

 

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While We Wait

While we wait,

We breathe, slowly, silently,

and sometimes suffocating from the heaviness of our thoughts.

We contemplate our present path.

Will we depart into unknown territory?

Fear invades our thoughts of what will be.

While we wait, we watch for signs in faces of what is to come.

False smiles or faces filled with true compassion for circumstances,

We search for a confident look that answers our questions.

Bravely proceeding forward.

While we wait, we observe that life continues around us.

Hurried, purposeful movements of those on a task to complete.

Not slowing to recognize possible pain.

A silent, slow tear escapes.

While we wait, we dream of possibilities yet to achieve.

People we haven’t met yet and a future not dared to imagine.

We  pray for mercy to enter our lives.

A fresh breath of hope.

While we wait, sometimes all we can do is breathe.

In and out, slowly,  silently and deeply,

While we wait.

 
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Posted by on September 21, 2010 in Life Happens, poetry

 

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The Early Morning Dance of the Cessnas

Cessna 4872 B was the first to take the dance floor departing on runway 31, instructor and student aboard. 

I watched from the holdshort line as they started the dance.  Rotating and lifting off the runway heading down the runway. 

Cleared for takeoff I joined the dance in Cessna 67764.  

4872 B gaining altitude and then turning right crosswind and setting up for the downwind leg.  

I rotated and lifted 67764  off the runway following their move heading down the runway gaining altitude. 

4872B calls midfield downwind and sets up for their turn for base. 

 The voice of the student shaky as he announces his position. 

As they travel down for final, I am moving up in an airborne ballet.

They complete the first round of the dance floor and set up for the second.

N67764 calls midfield downwind as 4872B  takes to the air again.

Each perfecting their dance steps each time around the floor moving in right closed traffic.

Too nose high on crosswind this time, next time lower the nose.

Too slow on final last round, more airspeed this round.

A little left of the centerline on landing, on centerline the next.

67764 adjusting trim for an easier dance.

Radio calls of the student are more confident as a comfortable rhythm develops.

Control tower adds in its calls to keep the dance in time.

Round and round we go with no one joining the dance.

67764 is the first to leave the dance floor and heads to the ramp.

4872B continues the dance solo on the clear, crisp, sunny morning. 

67764 dreams of the next dance and it’s wings that wait for flight.

 

 
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Posted by on September 13, 2010 in Flight training, poetry

 

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Fall Colors on the Water

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Rumpled, rustic aluminum canoe skims across the rain-dropped lake surface.

Arrived at the green lily pad carpeted bay silently in search of fall colors.

Insect eaten leaves of green, yellow, red and brown dress the surface.

Straw colored grasses wave in the wind dancing with the brown, sleek cattail in unison.

Majestic white lily sits like a crown upon a green pad.

Green popcorn-like pods line the stalk like a magic wand.

Silvery translucent leaves float barely below the surface decaying daily.

Dappled brown log floats below the water’s surface with a birch log nearby.

Floating grassy bog rocks in the gentle waves.

Fall is here.

 
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Posted by on September 10, 2010 in Nature, poetry

 

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Earth’s Early Morning Song

Watching, waiting, listening to earth’s early morning song,  overcast skies with fresh, cleansing breezes blowing after an overnight rain.  Water dripping from the freshly washed branches of the pine trees.  Rustling in the poplar trees leaves sounds like a steady rain.

Patience perfected as cautious head appears from the pine grove.  Searching, ears up like radar checking for danger.  Mother and fawn appear slowly crossing the edge of the field.  Slowly moving from east to west.  Tiptoeing near a flowerbed they stop for a nibble.  Galloping from behind they are joined by a third.  Cautiously scanning they continue their parade nearly out of sight.  Head down every so often for a taste of wet clean grass. 

Rustling in the east a fourth emerges, stops to survey the surroundings then runs to join the others,  standing like statues frozen in time trying to be unseen.  Dog barking in the distance they disappear in the west.

Dragonflies perform aerobatics in the skies above,  two in formation.  Left steep turns together and then right.  Higher, lower they fly their ballet.  Silently they dance as the crows caw in the distance.  The cars on a distance road provide their song to the mix.  Heard in the distance from west to east.  The sound rising as the approach and quieting as they depart on their way to work in the early morning hours.

Scampering, looking a field mouse climbs to the deck sees me and retreats below.  A second try, more brave, as it sits with its little pink feet and big brown eyes.  Observing me trying to decide,  moves a few inches carefully watching then darts on by with the sound of the woodpecker in the distance covering its steps.

Pink Cosmos flower heads swaying in the morning breezes.  Sunflower heads, heavy from rain, straining to find the sun.  The leaves of the maroon smoke plant shimmer with its fresh raindrops displayed.  Overcast skies clearing, making way for glimpses of blue.  Low gray clouds passing by, making blue skies not true.  Storms moving in as the day begins.

 
 

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