July 2015 – Patti Wolf

The Nature of Things

I drench my pillow with salty tears,
as night shadows loiter – slowly lurk;
till twinkling stars map promising hope.

Down woodland lane and sturdy oaks,
past thick meadow spills new growth,
toward endless surf and eternal sands;

all so much greater than I am.
There I whisper a longing prayer;
God’s creation with each rising sun.

“The heavens declare the glory of God;
And the firmament shows His handiwork.”
Psalms 19:1

Over at dverse we’re taking a look at nature’s healing touch.

Dirge for a Tree

my camera’s lens captures unusual qualities
scoured by flood and drought’s full vengeance
a hundred trees, precious trees, now stand dying

lush woodland slipped away, no longer speaks is dying
why is it the present holds hand with faults of past qualities
ripping with revenge, pouring payback and venting vengeance?

wind whipping loose bark from trunk with vengeance
brittle branches breaking, crackling under foot still dying
is tree’s charm mislaid or making way for new emerging qualities?

my eye captures new qualities
with vengeance,
no longer dying

Written in Tritinas Form (a,b,c…c,a,b…b,c,a…abc) in reflection to finding beauty in dieing tree and photographing them. Inspired by Emma’s dirge to Summer’s end. Linking up at dVerse.

Silent Night

The nightingale’s last cry;
a still born child at twilight.
A bundle of feather scattered,
tattered on parched ground.
Silent is the bleakest night,
till in prayer I cry out…

“Hear my prayer, O Lord,
and give ear to my cry;
do not be silent at my tears;
for I am a stranger with You,
a sojourner, as all my fathers were.”

Psalm 39:12

Not the feathers of a nightingale, I know, yet the music of one I no longer hear.