Sunsets and Rainbows
Sunsets and rainbows
Are poems in the sky.
Forests and Oceans
The tales of where and why.
There are stories in the rocks
And paintings in the clouds,
Dancing in the flower meadows
Music from the crowds.
The symphonies they produce
Paint murals in the skull
The operas of the universe
Never considered dull.
Opher – 8.7.2019
Life is wondrous and nature is so amazing. Its beauty and immensity is more splendiferous than any works of man. All we can do is marvel at it.
It stood grand with a million leaves,
In all its finery.
Every one reaching for the sun
To the majesty of its girth.
Each leaf a thing of beauty;
Together standing tall,
With all the might
Of a wondrous
Through many centuries
The tree has stood
Draped in its coat
Of many colours,
Then the cruel wind blew
Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat rat-a-tat
And the magnificent leaves
Were blown asunder
To rot in the soil.
Opher – 10.11.2018
I wrote this in anticipation of Rembrance Day.
I had this image of a nation being a mighty tree and the leaves being its people.
The cruel wind was the machine guns that so easily blew them away.
All that potential, all that grandeur, left to rot in the ground.
So sad, so unnecessary, so tragic, so thoughtless, so meaningless, so indescribably cruel.
What is this persistent ritual of war all about? Why are we forced to repeat it so often?
So many leaves fall. So many autumns. And endless cycle of young death.
In scintillating clouds
Streaming through the sky
With mesmeric majesty
In illuminations of gaudy display
Of glorious flourescent waves.
Wafting on the solar breeze,
Crashing on the seas
Of the moon
As electrons shine
Particles charge from the sun
To excite the eye
And flow across the retina.
Living in the North of England we are fortunate to occasionally get to see the Northern Lights. The sky puts on a lightshow of scintillation with sheets of fluorescent colour like a psychedelic lightshow. The sky glows and shimmers as the solar stream hits our outer atmosphere in a rage of ions, electrons and magnetic fury displayed in beauty.
We got roped together and, equipped with pitons, ascended the heights of our hill. Perilously hanging on I managed to take a few photos!
We met up with my daughter and her kids for a walk and chat. It is the first time we’ve seen them for ages because of this virus.
A great snowstorm had just come through. The moors were coated in a layer of snow. Very beautiful. The early warning radar site there is a reminder of the menace of mankind. In the midst of beauty there is horror.
We headed down into the valley into Goathland – the village used in the TV series Heartbeat.
Such a perfect day for a walk up my new favourite hill to have a view over the wolds.
The chalky rolling hills with their patchwork of colours.
There are two red kites nesting in a tree in the distance.
On the way up I stopped to watch a kestrel hovering next to a hedgerow.
The verges were a mass of buttercups, speedwell and daisy.
The dandelions had formed their perfect spheres of fluff.
The cowslips have all gone to seed.
It’s a three mile walk – just right!
Every Step a Praise
This is another of my secular poems to the beauty of nature and the incredible wonder of life.
We have woken from eternity to behold the most majestic place in the whole of infinity. A place of splendour, wonders and mystery. And the biggest wonder of all is that we have the consciousness and senses with which to appreciate it.
There is nothing more satisfying than to appreciate the glory of nature. We should acknowledge that with all our being. The world, the heavens, green plants and creatures are all part of a marvellous panoply of extraordinary spectacle beyond our capacity to comprehend. Mankind creates religions in order to capture its magnitude yet always falls far short. Nature is the most stupendous reality of all and we are part of it. To be in harmony with it is all that we could ever wish for.
Every Step a Praise
Let every step be a praise of wonder,
Every breath a gasp of pleasure,
Every blink a new awakening
And may every journey lead to one more splendour.
For we live in the midst
Of a glorious spectacle
In which all is mystery
And the pleasure
Is in the discovery.
So let every touch be one of love,
Every sound an orchestra,
Every flavour a banquet
And every moment
A fragment of eternity.