Imagine the Possibilities

Today is Poetry Friday and it snuck up on me! I wasn’t sure I would have anything to post, but then I thought about how I often get inspiration from other poets – a word or line can sometimes spark an idea.

I just finished rereading Lace and Pyrite by Ross Gay and Aimee Nezhukumatathil as part of my personal Sealy Challenge. It’s a series of epistolary poems the two poets exchanged about their gardens during the course of a year and is filled with delicious phrases. One in particular, “…the mysterious visitors arriving at night” reminded me of the curiosity I feel about the night visitors to my garden. One night last week when I ventured out to see if I could catch a shooting star, I wondered if I might encounter any mysterious visitors, and if so, just what would I do? So I borrowed Aimee’s line and got to work.

Hoping

to catch sight of a shooting star
darting through the midnight sky,
I step cautiously to the center of the yard,
past the three maples steadfastly standing guard
and the nest of sleeping finches.

I wonder if
the mysterious visitors arriving at night
will leap over,
scurry under,
wiggle through
to keep watch with me.

What a sight that would be­­­—
all of us, eyes toward the inky sky…

hoping
Draft, 2024RoseCappelli

Janice has the roundup today at Salt Verse City. Be sure to stop by for a wonderful review of A Walk in the Woods by Nikki Grimes and Jerry and Brian Pinkney, as well as lots more poetry goodness.

It’s Poetry Friday and I’m happy to be participating this week, back from a week of vacation at the beach with my family.

“Summer Snapshot” was the theme of the free verse poetry contest over at Renee LaTulippe’s Lyrical Language Lab. First of all, congratulations to Poetry Friday regulars Heidi Mordhorst on her third-place win and Linda Mitchell for her honorable mention. You can read their poems here.

I carried that theme around with me all summer and used it to capture a few snapshots in words while I was away. The ones I’m sharing all have to do with place and landscape. This month I’m finishing up several poetry books I started but didn’t complete, my own version of the Sealy Challenge. I just finished You Are Here: Poetry in the Natural World edited by Ada Limón. So everything seems to be fitting together well.

Snapshots from the Beach

i
seagull swoops
plucks treasure from the tide
early morning forager

ii
seaweed surprises
roll across the sandy shore
like tumbling tumbleweeds

iii
shades of blue
fade into aquamarine
sea-sky slow dance

Molly has the roundup today at Nix the Comfort Zone. Be sure to stop by and feel all the JOY she is spreading.

This summer I’m rereading Mary Oliver’s Devotions. Today I read a few poems originally published in her Owls and Other Fantasies collection. One poem, “The Dipper,” reminded me of an experience I had last week while starting my shift at Longwood Gardens. Before greeting guests at the Birdhouse Treehouse, I paused to hear the song of a wren rising urgently above the noisy cicadas. I wrote a short snippet in my notebook and returned to it today, inspired by Mary Oliver’s poem.

Excerpt from Mary Oliver’s “The Dipper”

Once I saw
in a quick-falling, white-veined stream,
among the leafed islands of the wet rocks,
a small bird, and knew it

from the pages of a book; it was
the dipper, and dipping he was,
as well as, sometimes, on a rock-peak, starting up
the clear, strong pipe of his voice; at this,
…

Photo from Pixabay.

Pausing to Listen
(after Mary Oliver)

Once,
in the quiet noise of the forest,
I heard a wren’s song
lift above the ebb and flow
of cicada chatter.

He would not give in
to insects
trying to usurp his job
of waking the world.

I listened to his song,
felt the urgency
of the message,
although I could not understand
the words.

I think of that wren now
in the quiet noise
of backyard birds and insects
that disturbs my reverie.
I pause to listen,
hoping to understand.
Draft, 2024RoseCappelli

Marcie has the roundup today here on her blog. Be sure to stop by to learn about her plans for the Sealy Challenge and lots more poetry goodness.

As always, thanks for reading.

It’s Poetry Friday!

This week has been a tough one for sad events. Two good friends both lost their husbands, one after a prolonged illness and the other after taking a sudden turn while healing. And, this weekend my husband and I are traveling to attend a celebration of life for one of our dearest college friends who we knew for over 50 years.

But in contrast to the sadness, two events reminded me of the joy we can experience if we take the time to notice – I spotted a monarch among the milkweed plants, and after filling the hummingbird feeders for a few weeks, one finally paid me a visit.

I wasn’t quick enough to grab a photo of either event, so the accompanying photos are courtesy of Pixabay.

Monarchs Mingle

monarchs mingle
sipping sweet milkweed nectar
the cycle begins
Draft, 2024Rose Cappelli

Enough 

it was just a few seconds, but
enough
for the hummingbird
to fly to the feeder—
enough
to remind me
that love and
joy and
healing
are within my grasp
Draft, 2024RoseCappelli

Margaret at Reflections on the Teche has the round-up today where she has a praise poem from her summer. Be sure to stop by for lots of poetry goodness.

Welcome to my Poetry Friday post. Things get a little sporadic in the summer, but I’m happy to be back this week to share a poem I recently wrote about my beloved cherry tree.

From The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year by Margaret Renkl:

“Even now, with the natural world in so much trouble – even now, with the pattern
of my daily life changing in ways I don’t always welcome or understand – radiant
things are bursting forth in the darkest places, in the smallest nooks and deepest
cracks of the hidden world.”

The flowering cherry that grows in our back yard was here when we moved in over 45 years ago. I’ve written about it before on this blog, so you might be familiar with it. It has withstood stress from storms throughout the years and has been a source of shelter for countless creatures. Every spring, right on cue, it bursts into beautiful blooms of hope and resilience. From time-to-time limbs have fallen or we’ve had to prune some branches, but there is always, somewhere, new growth.

We are both growing older, the tree and I. Over the years we have changed in appearance and sometimes in purpose. It is a reminder that although life still has more to offer, perhaps parts of us are ready to rest.

On a Hot Summer Afternoon

the large limb that allowed
spiders to roam
nestlings to roost
squirrels to shelter
through rain and snow
wind and sun…

fell to earth
with a gentle sigh –
time to rest.
Draft, RoseCappelli2024

Jan has the roundup today at Bookseedstudio. Be sure to stop by for links to lots of wonderful poetry.