INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Strolling on the pier
After leaving the paradise lagoon
mind quiet, soul soothed
from my swim and meditation,
I encountered a water bird,
a small great blue heron.
Even though small a grand bird
with long thin legs
and narrow pointed toes.
The color not just blue, yet
defined so, maybe by someone
not fully seeing or generalizing
the color that is predominant.
I look around to protect his space.
As I circle this bird,
knowing I can be prey,
I reflect on personal spaces
getting in touch fuller with mine.
THE NAKED WORLD
Naked is the world covered originally with only the elements,
The sky of blues with the variations of day and places,
Sometimes clothed in moisture
Covering it's hues from our view.
The oceans, gulf, streams, and rivers,
Like the inlet we past through slowly,
Enjoys an abundance of life,
Filled with creatures such as those
Snails without their shells lying and floating about,
Like the wonderfully playful dolfins,
And tiny sandpipers flittering along the shoreline.
Like the seagulls and amazing pelicans flying overhead,
These waterways bursting with life unless touched by man
Who pollutes the natural state of things.
In the gulf on this off-shore island,
Maintained in it's simple state of affairs,
Cluttered with people wanting, needing to return
To the basics of life out here in the naked world.
Sitting on a sandbar stretching out
We rid ourselves of our costumes
And feel the meshing of the sky, water,
Sun, and wind touching our bodies.
Touching so deep we become speechless,
Feeling ourselves and each other in a wondrous way,
Tingling, all of our senses alert,
Stripped down to a moment of purity.
Eyes of man would or could pollute the moment,
Yet we bask in the splendor and fill ourselves full,
Blending with this part of the world
All naked and natural, and right!
THANK YOU BUTTERFLY
As I sat on the bank
of Craig's Creek,
surrounded by bees, horseflies
and blue-headed dining needles,
dripping water from my swim
in the cool fresh flow,
after I flung from the other side
hanging on a rope tied to a
tall strong maple tree,
there, next to me,
lit a Monarch butterfly
just inches from my left foot.
Slowly opening its wings to
share the colors on his back,
almost shyly yet proudly,
wanting me to see it's beauty.
I marveled in it's display
for an extended moment;
then he flew away.
Joanie Freeman, Virginia
Ann Arbor Review | Home | next | previous | Back to Top