as the summer sun leans heavily towards equinox setting further south evening by evening the last threads of the season unravel the valley reveals its true self, backlit quantum universe
golden strands drift randomly through the trees energy trails of invisible spiderlings and bright pinhole gnats zoom and zag their photon paths across the void then the oxbow way down in the pasture takes to light, spells out a gleaming omega
the sun dips even further catches me full in the eyes blinded by this glory, in the split- second it takes to raise my hand I stop being the observer and everything for that moment ceases
Finally, after several days, I have my computer back. Now I am treating it a bit gingerly, as one does a family member who has just got up from sickbed. Anyway, I hope we (my computer and I) can get back to full-strength blogging now!
The passage of time in nature is a well-explored subject for me. One day I must go back over all the poems I’ve written and do a tally of the solstice, equinox and other cross-quarter references. The photo here is another shot of the view from my previous home in Alberta. The poem was written in response to the same view, only on a different autumn day, with different lighting.
The Cloud Messenger (Meghadūta) is a lyric poem by the respected Indian poet, Kālidāsa. The poem centers around a yaksa in exile. Longing for his beloved, waiting for him on a Himalayan mountain, he asks a cloud to take a message to her. The sights he tells the cloud it will see on its way make up most of the poem.
The idea of recording observations appeals to me. I thought The Cloud Messenger was the perfect title for a blog about the journey that we all make as we move through our days.
I'm a baby boomer who grew up dancing in the streets of Detroit during the classic Motown years, lived beside the Rocky Mountains for many years, now retired and living (and writing full time) in S. Ontario. I have one blog for rock 'n' roll oldies, and one for nature, poetry and life along the Lake.