I was alone, but for a moment
amidst pealing bells.
Suddenly you were there
tear streaked face buried in my chest.
Memory flash of newborn nestled into me.
And then you were gone
dancing joyfully,
her white veil trailing on your arm.
…and the Ice Melts
If you look with the mind of mother earth, in this place called Alaska, you become the earth.
Great calving sheets of ice seen from the haven of a cruise ship. We roar in excitement as you roar in pain. Losing part of yourself to the sea.
My boots trek through forest, stumble on tree roots, your uprooted veins. In the midst of rocky debris, at the toe of Laughton Glacier, a new sound. The relentless trickle of water into a glacial stream. Tears unabated, you weep cold rivulets, slowly, through hundreds of generations.
And I see. And I hear. Like a jagged shard of ice thrust through my heart. I understand this insidious thing we blithely call global warming. And I am chilled to the bone.
A prose poem, in the style of Joy Harjo.
Photos: Top: great slabs of ice shed from Mendenhall Glacier. Above left: standing on the “toe” of Laughton Glacier, after hiking 6.5 miles through Tsongas Forest and climbing through rocks on her debris field. This picture shows a gap — the “black cave” created by the ice melting…continuously dripping. The “rock” above the cave is the ice itself, narrowed from melting. It will eventually collapse into itself. All that you see above the “cave” is ice with debris its carried in its forward path. Right: the “ice field” our ship had to go through to get to Hubbard Glacier….which can be seen in the distance. Result of glacier calving.
See views of the glaciers themselves with my poem, In the Midst of Glaciers.
A different take on the Daily Post Photo Challenge: from every angle.
Eagle
Tree top abandoned
you glide overhead
power and beauty combined
a national treasure.
Outstretched black wings
white head and tail
blend in sleek aeronautic form
sole presence in vast sky.
Suddenly
legs drop in mid-flight
fearsome talons glint in sun
stark contrast to sea serenity.
No hesitation,
double-back or fly around
fast dive, splash
water and body collide.
Plummet turns to majestic rise,
return to nest, the conqueror.
The moment, so fast in time
waters flow unbroken
unaware they’ve lost
a swift inhabitant
to the ruler of the sky.
Photos: from recent Alaska trip. Apologies they are not better….taken on cell phone. Eagle was magnificent!
Off-Season
Our footprints disappeared
in cool damp sand ridges
as we walked, farther and farther
into the wetness of low tide.
Heads bowed,
eyes shaded from glare,
the water glistened
in glorious serenity.
We shared our solitude,
hand in hand
grateful we chose the off-season
to rediscover togetherness.
This is rewritten, using Glisten as a base, the first poem posted here, on March 20th.
Ursa
Round haunches, vestigial tail
grizzly when disturbed,
you meander, content and calm
on Denali’s hallowed ground.
Forager by nature
low bush cranberries and blue ones too
two thousand garnered every day
sustenance for a long winter’s sleep.
From sight to paw to mouth,
our approach ignored
until windows fling open
and camera eyes gawk.
Suddenly, like Ursa Major
on guard from on high
you look at us
wee squatters on protected land.
And in that moment,
the lesson is realized.
You are the superior being
of this great mother called earth.
Amazing and magnificent creatures seen in Denali National Park.
In the Midst of Glaciers
Dare I watch? Dare I breathe in this place,
where Nature’s breath and hand
hath created frozen beauty
over hundreds, nay thousands, of years?
Glaciers appear as still rivers
imperceptible flows of time
dip down from mountains of rock,
those dark monoliths of eternity.
Snow compressed, solidified
centuries of generation after generation
braids of blue crystal rivulets
between boundaries of sky and sea.
We float, this ship of humans,
bodies in the midst of your debris
slabs of flesh among slabs of ice
decades of life dwarfed in age and size.
Bits of time shed from the mother lode,
we, the detritus of humanity
make our way through the field of ice
looking backward as our ship retreats.
We are changed forever by this timeless place
one small ship in a glacier glory land
a fracture
in the eons of time.
Top two photos from aboard our ship, very very close to Hubbard Glacier. We had to move through an ice field from its “calving” — to get close this close — and we were privileged to see it calve — drop a huge mantle of ice with a thunderous sound!!!
Mendenhall Glacier near Juneau.Notes below.
Almost to the toe of Laughton near Skagway.
Laughton’s ice shelf. Melting into glacial stream.
Us on hike back down. Notes below.
Mendenhall Glacier near Juneau. We hiked to a beach where we could look across a lake and see this magnificent site. Next are photos of our hike all the way up to the “toe” of the Laughton Glacier near Skagway. We are standing by a glacier runoff stream — the sound alone was wondrous. Others are of us standing on the toe — incredible that we made it this high — right next to the glacier….you’ll see the ice shelf, crack in the ice. Truly an amazing hike — exhausting but exhilarating! We climbed through woods, then over fields of rocks and boulders to get here. 11 miles round trip to Laughton. Alaska: trip of a lifetime!
Her Legacy
It was a short notice.
Helen Cecile is predeceased
by Charles Andrew and Charles Gruenwald Jr,
her husband and son.
God knows, she’d lived the last eight years
impatiently waiting to join them.
It moved with her when she was left alone.
An eight by ten picture from a 1930s Life Magazine
a dark haired young nurse in white cap
surrounded by an aura of glowing light.
Her nurses’ training lasted six months.
Instead of earning a nurse’s pin
she eloped
and eight months later
put my brother to her breast.
The room was empty when I took it down.
Water-stained backing, script barely readable.
My dearest Helen,
No one can take this away from you.
Sister Everista 1937
For sixty years,
she’d kept her dream
in a plastic frame .
Revised from original post on April 17….to no acclaim except my neice’s phone call about this poem, about her grandma. My mom —
Shadow Me
We walk, you in front of me
one created flesh and bone
the other born of sun
elongated faceless gray.
Seamlessly
we stroll the beach
arms out wide, now close in
darkness plays with light.
I stop you stop
your head turns as mine.
We follow a gull’s flight
rising from the sea.
If I turn, reverse my course
will you dance behind,
like the kite that zigs and zags
when its master loosens hold?
Revised, revisited from a very early post. How I love Cape Cod and playing with my shadow!
…..and He Shall Invite You
Take this path with me,
and your reward shall be light.
Tread gently each day.
Believe in love and goodness,
and you shall have both in kind.
Written in Tanka form: syllabic lines of 5-7-5-7-7
Denali
Oh mighty one, elusive to so many.
Natives call you Denali,
befitting your magnificence.
You rule acres in the millions
set aside to protect your subjects,
God’s wildlife who coexist
and search the grounds for their sustenance.
Your spirit, whether seen or unseen
infuses them with the grace of nature.
We are humbled by your presence.
lillian the home poet 