Rain you are lonely, crying outside in the darkness.
A few sad fireworks fizzle and die.
Me, sitting alone on my sofa. Rain, is it you who are lonely, or I?
Autumn Rain
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Tag Archives: nature
Blackbird
The singing of a blackbird stops me dead in my tracks. Enraptured by his music I stand wallowing in beauty.
The cloak of evening softly creeps over the land. His music continues and still I stand.
“Are you OK?” a voice, as from another world asks.
“Yes” I reply.
The magic broken I go on my way.
He, later to family perhaps,
“I saw a strange man today. He stood, head cocked, listening to I know not what”.
Birdsong On An Autumn Evening
An Autumn evening. The park deserted save for me and my dog. A solitary birds sings. Entranced I stand, his song bringing thoughts of sorrow comingled with joy. Beauty, pain and happiness, contradictory emotions stir within my breast.
The lonely bird continues to sing, his voice filling the darkening park.
Distant sound of traffick. I linger, reluctant to break the spell.
Later, the pub full of noise. Yet, through the din I fancy, dim and distant, the singing of the birds can be heard.
Magpies
As I walked my guide dog, Trigger this morning, in The LawnsI heard the familiar chatter of a magpie, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KXoTUS5I_ks. I am fortunate in living close to The Lawns, historic parkland in Upper Norwood which attracts a wide variety of wildlife. Sometimes in the wee small hours I hear the sharp bark of a fox or the mournful hooting of an owl as he prowls? (can an owl prowl, probably not)! In search of his prey.
Upper Norwood is, as it’s name suggests high above sea level. When going into central London for work I certainly notice the difference in the air quality, Upper Norwood being far less polluted than London itself.
(There is an interesting entry on The Lawns here http://www.londongardensonline.org.uk/gardens-online-record.asp?ID=CRO040).
Liverpool Garden
The music of wind chimes intermitint and poignant speaks to me of far away lands where monks sit in silent meditation. Tibet, as yet unvisited but one day I will go and walk in the mountains, breathe the pure air.
A gentle breeze sings in the leaves, touches my sun kissed skin. Planes fly overhead but no birds sing.
A Liverpool garden on a late August day, ordinary yet extraordinary in it’s way.
Windy Morning
Sitting at my desk, the wind gusting outside. Something indefinable, slippery as an eel escaping my grasp. What is it, a sense of beauty combined with loss. The loss of connection between humanity and nature. A sense of sadness, of something passing perhaps never to be regained. We wrap ourselves in the comforting blanket of technology shutting out nature’s wonders. People walking through beautiful places glued to their mobiles. Ipods turned up, humans unaware of their fellow man, and still the wind cries outside.
Open Windows
Open windows, rain falling softly on the garden below. Often the scent of the ground, rich with earth wafts upwards like a fine tobacco but, tonight nothing. Why so scentless this evening?
My arm encased in it’s dressing gown explores. The touch of rain hardly a whisper on my hand – barely raining? And yet the sound of the water continues, rain falling, nature saying something but what?
Freedom
What is it to be free?
Freedom is walking barefoot as dawn lights up the sky, damp grass underfoot, wild birds flying unconstrained above.
Freedom is speaking without fear of consequences, no glancing with trepidation over one’s shoulder.
Freedom is letting go,, being who you want to be, not the personification of the desires of others.
Freedom is the passionate kiss, love unbound.
Freedom is life, the opposite of death.
I Heard The Birds Sing
I heard the bird sing, they spoke to me of spring, of joy profound, beauty all around, flowers strew the ground, love of life abounds.
Thoughts On A Windy Day
Wind gusting on a spring day, you speak to me of freedom, of things beyond expression. Eternal force blowing forever on ancient peoples and now on me. You care not for civilisation, your gusts of laughter shake the bending trees. You blew before these buildings came, when all is gone you will remain.
Sometimes like a gentle girl, your soft caresses delight the world. At other times cold and sharp, your ice laden gusts freeze human hearts.
You are a force beyond control, you dwell within the human soul.
K Morris - Poet 