Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Ode to the Perseids


(The Perseids are winding down after another glamorous show this year. They'll still be visible for a few more days, even though the peak just passed. A poem in honor of shooting stars)

Look up
Perseus is calling
Glare into celestial canopy
and look deep beyond meaning
Past twinkle and glimmer from so many years ago finally reaching your eyes
And you may catch a glance of tiny particles speaking
Like stones skipping across a pond
Of stardust and trails zooming through night sky in short heroic bursts
This moment has been waiting for you

Radiant point is northeast
These shooting stars skip across our invisible roof
and burn out and disintegrate
In such flashy fashion
Ephemeral and lingering in retina
their death rings like victory
and we are left in awe
of how epic their last words were

We dignify their deaths with wishes
and hopes
and rekindled lore and love towards space
For we are stuck here for now
and perhaps in that fleeting moment
we are exactly where we are meant to be
As our place in time and space coexists with something greater than random chance
Serendipity zooming particles reach out and we are more alive in their death

Look up
And face your fate
Look up
And dream that dream you are afraid to speak
Look up
You are entering new terrain
Look up
For you are meant to see that we too
are returning home.

Blueberry Medicine in the Highlands

The Highlands

Bumblebees and others pollinators making blueberry medicine


The Highlands are always a special place
But in early August they take on a different magnetism
Where bears and mammals and animals of all sizes
ascend from the woods to our Appalachian balds
Birds chirp closer in territorial hostility
and even more people from all around
come for a taste of sweet blueberries and huckleberries

They come with buckets, jugs, bags, and eager tongues
Some driven by simple survival
Some with pancake dreams
Commencing to pick
We look for the plumpest of the plump
Those barely hanging on
Gobbling as many down as we collect
Wise spiders build webs amidst them
and we are amidst a much bigger one

I grab a clump of 7 perfectly ripe in a tight cluster
and somehow feel a small victory
And can’t help but grin
hoping it happens again

You can spend 30 minutes on one bush
And look out and see more than one can fathom
I’m viscerally reminded of the necessity of the wild
And I’m viscerally reminded of the chlorophyllic magic
of sustenance provided by the land
Of sunlight converted to sweet sugars
and vitamins and antioxidants
And untold compounds
that also nourish the soul.