Nature continues
While seasons and crises pass.
We move onward too.
Nature continues
While seasons and crises pass.
We move onward too.
Here’s a musical meditation on zither, and a Tritina (poem) that is as much for us as it is for the birds!
Through your singing you speak
Sharing peace, hope and love
With your tweets and warbles.
But it’s not just your warbles
It’s the message you speak
Can it teach me to love?
Do you know hate? No, love!
Must I learn your warbles
So I can gently speak?
Or can I speak love without warbles?
You’ve probably heard this well-known hymn in praise of the vast world of nature that God created. Maltbie Davenport Babcock, a minister, wrote the lyrics as a 16-stanza poem. It was first published in 1901, after his death.
In 1915, Franklin L. Sheppard chose 3 verses for the hymn and set them to the tune “Terra Beata,” meaning “Blessed Earth” in Latin.
Please enjoy my lyre arrangement, and feel free to download and share the mp3!
My contribution to the Yuletide, sung to the tune of “Jingle Bells” and played on ukulele.
Sun has come
Sun is gone
Sun will shine again.
Longest night, it’s time to light
Your inner fire of change.
Yule!
Sun has come
Sun is gone
Sun will shine again.
Longest night, it’s time to light
Your inner fire of change!
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
You can listen to these original songs by clicking or pressing Enter on the Play button below, or by clicking on the one you’d like to start with.
No matter how you celebrate, I simply pray that you do, and do so earnestly, honestly, and joyfully!
Once I dreamt I was the moon, bright and full, watching over the June night sky and everyone beneath me. I’ve seen a lot of things in my time, but nothing could prepare me for what I witnessed then.
I gazed upon a woman who wrote all night. Poems, songs, journal entries… But she was neither writing nor sleeping. Instead, she lay in bed, considering a new relationship with a man far away. He was a writer, too, but they had never met. She marveled at how he could invade her heart and home with just the touch of his words. His poem even said he loved her. But how would this invasion change her life?
Suddenly, I awoke. No, I was not the moon. I was the woman in the dream, still wondering how your invasion would change my life.
Now I know!
—
This was written for the following prompts:
Prosery #2 at dVerse,
FOWC with Fandango: Touch,
#RDP #Ragtag Daily Prompt Friday: Prepare.
Thank you all for these prompts! You keep me writing. 🙂
I always thought you were a nice guy. You struck me as intelligent, kind, funny, and understanding. And when we talked, I would close my eyes and let your voice pour all over me like chocolate syrup.
I thought you were too good to be true. No man could really be so sweet, so wise and yet so down-to-earth, and dare I say it, sexy, too. And you loved me?
Ok. Maybe I could accept that. After all, you say yourself, “There’s someone out there for everyone.” Well, perhaps you were out there for me. That could be.
After you wrote that first poem, I learned the truth about you…
You were a magician! That night I dreamt I was the moon, and you hung me in the heavens, to light up the world’s darkness the same way you lit my heart with love.
—
My response to
dVerse Prosery #2,
which must be 144 words and include the bold line.
by Frederick Douglass Grimes, III
Mother Earth, oh Mother Earth!
Where have you gone?
Mother Earth, Mother Earth!
Where did we go wrong?
Tornadoes, cyclones, twisters and such;
Air pollution, too much plastic…
It’s getting to be a bit much.
Trees being chopped down
Has nature’s animals on the run.
How would anyone like to be run out of their home?
Believe me, it’s no fun.
Plastic islands clogging up the oceans;
Before we know it, no clean water for us to drink.
The closer we get to the sun, the worst things get.
It really makes you think.
Glaciers melting by the minute,
Polar bears looking for a new home.
Soon all of God’s creatures
Will have no place to roam.
Recycle! Recycle!
Is all we hear nowadays.
If we all pitch in,
Years from now we may still be able to feel the suns rays.
Mother Earth is all we’ve got;
She’s the best game in town.
If folks don’t wake up,
It will be too late for us to frown. 😦
Don’t be a litterbug!
–The Blind Poet, Freddy G.
Shared for
dVerse Poetics: On Climate Crisis.
Independent streak
Lightning bursts in Summer storm
Nature takes a stand
Happy Independence Day!
I’m about 6 years old, and my family and I are on a Summer camping trip. This is nothing new; I was 3 when we took our first trip. But this one is different.
I’m standing near the grill, hungrily waiting for my dad to make some burgers. To this day everything tastes better to me on the grill! But my excitement turns to pain and panic when a bee stings me, right between my fingers. I’m blind, so I don’t see it coming. The sighted kids get stung all the time anyway, but this is my initiation if you will.
I stand still, then burst into tears, clutching one hand with the other. Lunch is a little delayed while my hand is taken care of. After that it’s back to the suddenly serious business of camping. And I learn to respect bees. So small, yet so powerful!
Best camping darkens
Explosion of pain and fear
Enormous bee stings
—
A Haibun for
dVerse.
You must be logged in to post a comment.