a fiery orange light
on the next hill.
i thought the Blakers’
barn was burning.
(i left my warm bed and stepped outside for a better view.)
leaped into the black
and devoured the trees
of the horizon.
i thought the still-green leaves
in the valley between
will keep us safe.
(my husband joined me to witness the spectacle.)
then the triangle
of flames and fire
suddenly settled into
a sideways orange half moon.
61.2% rising ENE
at 11:16 p.m
i thought when has a half-moon-rising
ever been fire in the sky.
(we laughed at one more
my skittish, sheepish
thoughts morphed like moonfire
into a silent prayer.
Lord of the moon, the sky, the earth,
protect us from fires raging
in the darkness
and turn them into
just a spectacular autumn moonrising
in the night sky.
(i slept the weighted, dreamless sleep of peace.)
“Through the heartfelt mercies of our God,
God’s Sunrise will break in upon us,
Shining on those in the darkness,
Those sitting in the shadow of death,
Then showing us the way, one foot at a time,
Down the path of peace.”
Luke 1:78-79 (The Message by Eugene Peterson)
Peace to all this Christmas…
the catalpa tree in the side yard
A late bloomer,
She wears lace in June
on her sunlit green dress
Luxuriously, she gives with abandon all she has —
blossoms, twigs, branches, seeds, leaves…
The birds and the wind
deposit her bean pod necklaces
far away at the grassy edge of the hillside.
Every spring there is a new little tree.
The catalpa forest grows
and the wind is sweet with the orchid blooms.
Her waist is not small nor dainty,
Eleven feet around,
No arms could encircle her.
Green lichen covers her bark,
And winter shows her true form
of gnarled, aged branches.
Birds and bees love her,
and so does the hammock.
The view is unforgettable
on a June Sunday afternoon.
Birdsong and breeze and the billowy green
bring gentle rest to the needy soul.
Reblogged this from June a couple of years ago….