Imagine the Possibilities

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.

It’s Poetry Friday! Tabatha has the roundup today at The Opposite of Indifference where she very cleverly interviews poet William Blake. Be sure to stop by for lots of poetry goodness.

My last post was about peonies, so this week I decided to give the hydrangeas equal time. In contrast to peonies that don’t hang around long, hydrangeas have stamina. The blooms last and last outside (even in heat) as well as inside. They are bright and happy placed in cool water and left alone on the kitchen table. A few weeks ago, I snipped some blooms to take to a friend’s house. When I arrived, the blooms were so wilted I feared I had stretched their endurance too far. But I chose to bet on the potential of these resilient flowers, and I was rewarded.

I hope wherever you are you can enjoy these longest days of summer and the full Strawberry Moon tonight.

Welcome to my Poetry Friday post!

Each spring I delight in the abundance of peonies produced on the six bushes that line the fence in my side garden. They reach their heads toward the sun then suddenly, almost overnight it seems, burst into beautiful blossoms. I try to bring in as many as I can and give away bouquets to neighbors and friends. Depending on the weather, they don’t have a long life. A day of rain will send them flopping to the ground. Add in some wind and it will be time to say goodbye sooner rather than later. But I am always thankful for their beauty, fragrance, and the memories they bring for however long they stay.

Because I’ve been working on trinets this week, I wrote one about the bittersweet task of cutting down the last of the peonies’ fading blossoms. Thanks to Alan J. Wright who introduced me to this form. A trinet has seven lines. Lines 3 and 4 each have six words; the other lines have two words each.

The Last of the Peonies

spring’s final
peony blossoms
in a vase of cool water
remind me of each life’s fragility
petal drooped
fragrance filled
sweet goodbye
Draft, 2024RoseCappelli

Tracey has the round up today at Tangles and Tales where she’ll have you thinking about inspiration (and food!). Be sure to stop by for lots of poetry goodness.