naturepoet.com

30 Jun

That Which Flows Within by Stephen W Emerick

All that flows within me
Knows the direction of home…
Recognizing itself as visitor,
Passing ferns, and hollows, and stones.

With emerging faith in its currents,
Even when winter is bitter;
Even when water is ice…
Life’s simplicity doth suffice!

As flow pays homage to host,
By residing only for a while
The brevity of the visit
Seems eternity’s elegant style.

Stream at Old Man’s Cave by Jim Crotty

27 Jun

Hope by Stephen W Emerick

 

Hope

A singular flickering light—
In the darkness—shining Bright!

Evening falls at the Inn at Cedar Falls by Jim Crotty

27 Jun

A Peculiar Perspicuity by Stephen W Emerick

A peculiar perspicuity has been placed…
Where forms by spring soon to be covered,
Now with clarity may be discovered
Dispensation just for this season and its own particular reason…

For now is granted crystal clarity,
Placed in this in-between-moment,
Of lucidity bequeathed between
True winter and false spring’s unrelenting foment.

For that which we thought to be,
Was only our expectation…
And this season’s perspicacious advisor taught us instead
The true form of wisdom’s exaltation!

Greet each season in the moment
Like a stranger upon the path;
With a sense of humble unknowing,
You shall find wisdom’s freedom lasts.

Snow on Tulip by Photographer Jim Crotty

09 Apr

Poetry at its best!

The first and finest training I have received by a poet was from the poet David Whyte. A group of us had been brought together by Bob Anderson, at a resort in Texas.  David had each of us stand in front of the opthers and practise “filling the room” with presence, and then to share a poem we had made (unwritten and spontaneous). I remember my legs shaking and trembling with energy as I struggled to bring my voice to the poem I shared. Out came a poem, “Dark Bed of the Lake”. It has been quite a while since then, and yet I hope that what I am doing now gives honor to that time with David Whyte.

In honor of David, here is a quote of his recent interview with Sounds True that says it all (italics are mine)!

“Poetry, in the way it’s been taught, has been so abstracted. As an actual living art form, poetry is human speech  at the edge of revelation, at the edge of discovery. The rhythms and diction and imagery of poetry, at its best, are very close to the way that human beings speak when they are in extreme situations of loss, of love, of revelation, of expansion, and even of contraction and disappearance. Good poetry always uses images that belong to everyone”. 

I hope that you find the images in my poetry belong to you.
Stephen W Emerick

08 Apr

A Parent’s Eyes by Stephen W Emerick

Human Nature: The desire to be loved.

Written for my daughters. And Jim’s daughters.

A Parent’s Eyes

I have searched the old and yellowed scrolls,
And texts from far and wide.
Touched upon every word like Braille…
On papyrus and animal hide.
You blessed the unwed mother
Carrying the womb of love–
Who brought her son to all of us,
Baptized by the gift of the dove.
I have spoken to so many
About those spiritual ties–
And many have told me stories and,
More than a few told me lies!
Yet how is all this possible?
My mind could not find peace.
How could God have come to love us…
When we feel so out of reach?
I have heard of Mary and her Joseph,
The unwed betrothed to grace.
Gazing within the widening eyes of their baby child
Finally home and finding their place.
Perhaps it is so with the rest of us
Who seek the spiritual ties;
Heaven breaks in and shines on us–
When we find love in a parent’s eyes.
A Child’s Prayer by Photographer Jim Crotty

30 Mar

Suddenly. Faith! By Stephen W Emerick

I then was
Far too long in darkness,
Blind with never ending digging–
Seeking Water in dark soil,
Hope…my ships only rigging.

I then saw
Digging towards me in earnest faith
Through faithlessness unfathomable,
And black-capped visions of despair…
The Sacred unimaginable!

I then felt
All that had kept me bound
Break away, and in peace alone,
I sailed through the open Portal,
To the Sea I now call home.

Ice on Tunnel in Hocking Hills by Photographer Jim Crotty

02 Mar

Prodigal by Stephen W Emerick

To be fall’s last leaf leaving,
No longer to tree am tied;
Will countenance then be covered…
Because it has fallen and died?

Will fellow’s of forest gather round…
With grief and sadness bereft?
Is all hope and longing lost,
Beneath winter’s covering cleft?

Or if on the family tree…
There is none left but me;
And I lie prostrate upon the ground…
Will I too with leaf’s laurel be crowned?

Perhaps then like the prodigal one,
After a long and laborious leave…
I will find I have not left, but arrived…
By the arms of home received.

Lone Maple Leaf handcolored photograph by photographer Jim Crotty

20 Feb

Light Emergent by Stephen W Emerick

Dark woods
Shrouded hoods…

Night eyes
See through lies…

Trembling alarm,
Immanent harm!

Pulse of night
Inner sight…

Faults, fears, and
Penitent tears…

Put to rest
On Angel’s breast!

Bestowing light,
And all is right.

Morning mist and fog on prairie at Sugarcreek MetroPark nature landscape photography by Jim Crotty

31 Jan

Social Event of the Seasons by Stephen W Emerick

I have been to the grand ball of the forest–
Enthralled by the sight of it all–
The doors of spring parted before me,
And what wonders I recall!

As summer entered gradly
On the extending arm of fall,
WINTER stood jealous by the window pane–
Ready to blanket it all!

More I would gladly tell you–
But the sacred leaves me mute!
Oh, when next will I hear the tune
Of the night wind’s hollow flute?

November Moon over Conkle’s Hollow State Nature Preserve Photography by Jim Crotty

20 Dec

Eyes of the Forest by Stephen W Emerick

Nature Landscape Photograph by Jim Crotty of Sunlight through Trees at Rowe Woods

They say the blind are sighted

In ways we cannot see

Perhaps the eyes of forest

Are just the same as these

 

Where vision is held in presence

As contours are held by touch

Where glen and glade in-gather

For miracles are made of such

 

Paths take a turn toward the inward

What was outside resides within

As all we sense around us

Joins inscapes joyous hymns

 

Blind and sighted intermingle

And all are sighted by need

From every form of blindness

Each finds its freedom indeed

 

For there is found to be no partition

Between observer and observed

Belief of seperation in deep woods

Is found to be absurd

 

Spirit’s vision now reads by Braille

Of bark and bramble and brook

And as we leave the forest

This is the lesson we took

 

It is in the closing of eyes

In wonder’s stance of awe

That any kind of blindness

Is healed by what we saw

 

In forested new-found vision

There is no need for seeing

A new world is now upon us

For this is the season of Being

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