In the golden tree
a bird red throat full of song
summer’s sweet fire
In dark winter’s depths
red throat pulses fierce defiance
singing to the sun
Black tree bare branches
fire heart sings of summer
winter not so cold.
There is nothing more uplifting
Than the sight of sunlight through the clouds
A golden torrent pouring from the broad sky’s sea
Turning the last drops of cold lead rain
To a river of cascading gems.
And when the trees are bathed in liquid light
From among the dripping leaves the music starts,
Triumphant robins shout their riotous notes
And listening enraptured we can forget
Just for the time of a small bird’s song
That winter lies on the dark side of the sky.
Where do robins go when summer’s here
and blackbirds fill the hedge with song?
Only when the wind strips bare the trees
and scatters gold upon the ground beneath,
when earth and sky are damp and dark
and the long winter night descends
do bare trees fruit again with feather-red
and robin hurls his sweet triumphant song
against the howling voice of arctic winds.
His fragile courage saving summer’s notes
reminds the cooling heart that spring will come again.
a haze of misty greys
filled with shooting stars
of blazing leaves
and the pure clear beauty
of the robin’s song.
a place to talk so talk I'll talk we'll talk
Promoting mindful living
A r t w o r k . . . . f r o m . . . . . . . . . H a m b u r g , . . . . . G e r m a n y.
October and November 2019
"Words are all we have" Samuel Beckett.
sharing the stories of interconnection
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Books & Bonsai
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Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
lines that aim to be
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New site available: www.procrastinationcoach.net
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Freelance Proofreader and Illustrator
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