bells of the cascades, 12/2023

 brilliant, intricate patterns

and rhythms, quick runs

of an octave or more

rung up and down from one

four-in-hand handbell ringer

to the next and back again

too fast for audience to catch

each twist and pump of fist

that creates the music

that mesmerizes and awes

gold-orange slithers

golden orange slithers

between pine needles

creating a bold lace

sunrise finds glorious

myriad ways

to awaken us

to possibilities

to try again

wrinkled gratitude

wrinkles are part of me now

and colored spots sprinkled on dry skin

but my funnybone still thrives

and my eye for the glory of a sunrise

and my awe at the power

of generosity, so, despite the aches

and fears, life is still a precious gift

for which there are no adequate words

of gratitude

pink-gold dawn

gentle, pink-colored sunrise

this morning gradually being insinuated

by insistent pale gold tinting grass

evergreens, fields and hills beyond

as though pigmenting with glory

the very air to wrap us all

in a new beginning

the aches of the elderly

 aching pain tends to diminish

the attractiveness of an old man’s surroundings

could it be nature’s way of loosening

his clinging tie to life?

sound haiku

whisper if you hear

shout and lose touch with nature

listen, understand

waves under rain

frantic roiling beneath haranguing gray

sky agonized delivering days of rain

in only hours

waves crouching, heaping, lifting

conceiving hills, mountains, cliffs

birthing white water against ancient basalt creating spouts, spurts, jets leaping, roaring white

leaving short-lived miniature waterfalls

and rivulets between rock faces

as they retreat, exhausted, against

the next oncoming, wind-driven contraction

mjNordgren  12/6/2023  at Tidal Raves, Depot Bay, OR

Depot Bay, Oregon

seagulls smell leftover French fries

DW

 on the outside

a little mite of a guy

within

his warmth and caring are huge

he listens

he considers

he does all he can to help heal

weep in anticipation

anticipate a non-reality

hope for this or that to happen

fear the other because things never

seem to turn out well

it is all imaginings

cowering before the blow is struck

when you might wait for the pain

before crying

serrate clouds

 serrated clouds

tinged at the edges between banks

of purple with searing white

as though recently severed

and now bloodless

jagged gap already closing

healing from whatever divisive

issue between heavenly beings

            would that man’s divisions

            might reconcile as quickly

true friends at the coast

 the most fun day of this year

was the four of us talking

and laughing on the drive to the coast

relaxing, hanging out at the Blue house to watch the waves from the deck

sharing a meal with dark, molasses

bread so rich a few bites satiate

working on sections of that impossible

jigsaw puzzle, sharing about what

has been happening in our lives

and the pains and joys of family

talking, laughing and talking

even louder all the way home

together bonding, knowing

of a certainty that sorrows are picked up willingly

and now carried by more than one  

pale sky, gem blue Pacific

pale sky, gem blue sea

wisped clouds, rippling with waves

reflecting, refracting light between both

hints of rainbows in crest mists

functioning as in the eons

without the interference of humans

WiG response

serious essay about our penchant

for violence provoked deep discussion

for Writers in the Grove

afterwards, a plaintive call for a joke

so, we did a 2-minute prompt based

on the tongue-in-cheek story earlier

about children eating spiders

the gang came up with hilarious

responses - as always, quick-witted

and widely various

our WiGs contribute to much-needed sanity

both daughters

both daughters strong for their families

both aching within for painful losses

but laughing together, scheming fun

in travel plans to fulfill a longing

of many years never realized

until now when they will decide

to make what is yearned for happen

whatever the cost to themselves

to give healing to those they love

selective visitors

a young, curious stag nuzzles

the bird seed tray on my porch

two days later a dark doe nibbles

the finally again-green grass in my yard

how privileged to have such visitors

who make no comment, seem not to see

the lingering dust or messy piles

throughout my house

but only, with gusto, concentrate

on the edible goodies

Thanksgiving leftovers

richer by far

for the laughter

the quips and teasing

the moments of grace

and bonding

the delicious foods from many

kitchens of far-flung family

gathering in thanksgiving

for each other and a world

of supportive love

Include more text here to close out the blog, or just delete this box.

healing beyond me

 as a physician, i never healed anyone

my best efforts went to shaping

all around them to help them heal

themselves in God’s arms

this day of remembering

with humble gratitude all

that has been given us, i have yet

again gifted with the laughter 

and caring that heals and bonds

friends and loving family

kitchen on Give Thanks morning

the oven is on low

sweet potatoes, yellow and orange

baking in brown sugar butter

aroma just emerging into the kitchen

anticipating Thanksgiving

smell of the warmth of joy

Ed

a gentleman

having carried two wives

through prolonged and painful

dying, is now quietly succumbing

to infirm age while retaining

his straight back, gentle smile

and stubborn spirit of strength

and giving

it is time for him to move to live nearer

beloved daughter and extended family

but how dearly we will miss him

privileged

 a young stag visited this morning

i did not notice him until he moved

astounding how stealthy

such a large creature can be

if he saw me, he was not impressed

enough to stare me down but came

right up to the porch to check

the bird food tray within ten feet

of me in my nook of an office

what a privilege to live in these foothills