Tag: Nature Poem

Jane

 

 

For Jane Ragsdale of Camp Heart O’ the Hills, 1957-2025

I cannot say
That Jane went away,
In the big Flood of ‘25-
Because:
Her smile survives,
I see her sparkling eyes,
The sun is shining brighter,
Good is winning,
Birds are listening,
Things keep improving,
I look before leaping,
People sing more and talk less,
Questions have answers,
Challenges are met without regret,
Foes sit down and discuss,
And life keeps getting better.

Whatever the case,
It’s good to know that her heart will always be home,
Because her home will always be The Heart.

———————————

Audio:

Moving Forward

 

 

A photograph of a mountain lake reflecting the surrounding mountains

If there’s a Heaven, and assuming that’s where I go, I hope there are:

Bluebird skies to fill my eyes,
Brilliant stars to light the nights,
Unknown trails to touch my feet,
Mountaintops to hope to reach.

Lot’s of trees to fill the forests,
Golden Trout to take my flies,
Sketchy ledges to try to ride,
Good friends to walk beside.

Open spaces just to wander,
No time to waste or squander,
Stiff breezes to nudge me onward,
No false summits to tease me forward.

Silent places to clear my head,
Smells of flowers to fill my nose,
New horizons to give me hope,
Boundless vistas to help me cope.

Solid rock to hold onto,
Cooing doves to listen to,
Flowing rivers to float my boat,
Roaring rapids to hope to float.
.
Massive glaciers to ski across,
Mountain streams to need to cross,
Flat spots to pitch my tent,
Stacks of rocks to block the wind,

Deep crevasses to blow my mind,
Smokeless campfires to warm my spine,
New treasures to try to find,
No good times to leave behind.

Audio Version:

The Constant

 

These days,
In today’s civilized world,
Confusion exists.
In spite of the chaos,
Some positives persist.

So, I head into the wilds,
Where the cactus still bloom.
Fawns take a first step,
And thunderstorms brew.

Buds turn into leaves,
The mountains still call.
Robin eggs hatch,
And river ice thaws.

Dandelions flower,
The Sun rises each day.
Scorpio appears,
And snowdrifts melt away.

Live Oaks shed their leaves,
Meadows turn green.
Hummingbirds show,
And birds start to sing.

Streams fill up with run-off,
Trees blow in the wind.
High trails can be walked,
And there are more peaks to ascend.

Each day is longer,
Herds of Elk scatter.
Bass build their nests,
And the marmots are gladder.

Nighttimes are chilly,
Yet daytimes are warm.
Caterpillars roam,
And Honey Bees swarm.

Agarita’s blossom,
Campfires still smoke.
The Dewberries ripen,
And Prickly Pears poke.

Horizon fills the distance,
Summit views astound.
The wonder of nature,
Is a both a constant and profound.

Continue reading “The Constant”