Anniversary Happiness

Gratitude Haiku

Thank you gratitude

Reflection of kindnesses

Everything’s a gift

September 29th was the one year anniversary of this blog. I struggle with words to communicate the depth of my gratitude to all of you that have given a moment of your attention to view or like my posts. You can’t imagine the joy I feel from those small gestures of kindness.

In the future, the posts will be more spontaneous then scheduled. Fields, family and four-legged’s keep life full. Writing posts will be more in the flow with the work demands of living close to the land. What I’ve learned from my blog journey can be summed up in this beautiful Mary Oliver quote, “Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.”

 

Apples to Apples

Summer is drowsy.

Fall wraps a colorful shawl over her shoulders.

apple fragrance perfumes the crisp air.

In the orchard, youth’s tang has mellowed.

Tart and hard surrender.

 

Wolf River. Prairie Spy. Lodi. Zestar.

 

Bashful pink blushes streak down each apple.

Voluptuous ornaments adorn the length of each and every limb.

Branches bow as gracefully as the necks of swans.

Sweet wood bares sweet fruit.

 

McIntosh. Cortland. Red Delicious. Granny Smith

 

Teeth crush down through flesh.

Taste the juicy ripeness of a season’s end.

Running sky blue clear.

Soul sweet deep.

Wipe your chin ready.

 

Gala. Sweet Tango. Empire. Honey Crisp

All Directions

i

drink sky

eat earth

breathe wind

create light

 

i

am not the center

but the center is in me

Great Spirit

all around

 

i

see me

in everything

everything in

me

 

i

face

all

directions

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Garden Queen

Summer’s youth wanes,
each day riper with fullness,
Phlox’s bright eyes open wide.

A delightfully lovely fragrance,
once cradled in her bosomy blooms,
now billows gently in the breeze.

Hot pink petals aflame,
devour the green scenery,
burning off the heat’s heaviness.

A Sphinx Moth visits,
humming above nectar filled flowers,
long tongues dip into wells of sweetness.

The cool of the evening,
invites me back for a visit.
I sit enchanted by the tall aristocratic beauty.

Phlox, you are the queen of my garden empire.
I bow to you.

Sweet Drops

By the shift in the winds direction and speed I can tell the weather is about to change abruptly. The sky’s sunny disposition is no match for the clouds angry demeanor. As Wally and I make a bee line for the shelter of the shed they come, sweet drops of rest.

I take a seat on an overturned pail near the open shed door, peering through the curtain of rain. Wally waltzes over for a scratch behind the ear then lies on my feet. The distinct odor of wet lab cuts through the scent of fresh rain. I breathe in both deeply. There we sit, work waiting, listening to the peaceful rhythm of the rain. Peaceful because there is no hay cut or seed to put in the ground.  Rain and I have a fluid relationship. To a farmer rain can be a curse and a blessing. Weather is a master at teaching acceptance. Over the years, I’ve learned to move with the rhythm of the rain.

While thoughts tossing and turning in my mind are put to sleep by the rain’s song, I feel content. We control uncontrollable circumstances by choosing how we cope with them. Today, I’m choosing to sit and listen to the sweet drops of wisdom coming to rest in my soul.

Loved Life

Live a life that is loved.

If you’re not feeling life’s love,

find another way to be alive.

A loved life

loves you back.

Divine Hour

There is a Divine power

in the early hours.

The morning star a tiny twinkle,

yet bright enough to make your eyes crinkle.

 

The hoe’s sharp blade breaks the soil’s crust

and pulls back a dark moist mound before another thrust.

Pungent earthy smells blow past my nose.

Here is a good home for pea roots to grow.

 

Sacred seeds of possibility

planted by hands soiled with humility.

Tenderly placed within the prayer of earth’s fertile womb

asking for each to bud and bloom.

 

Oh the ambitious garden projects spring pushes us to complete!

The sky’s daylight is beginning to retreat.

The gardener’s body is stiff and bones ache.

Just one more row for goodness’ sake!

 

I rise with Divine power

of the birth hour.

Today’s tomorrow,

can’t be begged, bought or borrowed.