Or let us start here

In the beginning

Late November

Great fat raindrops plop
on roof and walk, as birds call,
and the day begins.

What I am working on...

Besides mandala studies and Japanese painting studies, I have been working on a series of paintings in homage to Georgia (O'Keeffe), photos upcoming.  After discovering three copies of one of her books of paintings and two other volumes I decided now was as good a time as any to really delve into her work.
It has been so much fun!
Looking forward to sharing the works soon.

Moon light stripes the yard
the night before Thanksgiving
as the trees stand bare.

This frosty morning,
the birds sing for their breakfast-
seed splatters, rattles.

Big, bright moon above,
almost full - in November,
T's favorite.

Life has loveliness to sell
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,,
And children's faces looking up,
Holding wonder like a cup.
Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
eyes that love you, arms to hold,
And for your spirits still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.
Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be
-Sarah Teasdale-1917

In the Spirit of the Universal Prayer, MAY PEACE PREVAIL ON EARTH!

Join us in Sending a Peace Prayer Wave Around the World to every region on earth where Peace is needed Now! November 21st, Saturday at 12 noon wherever you are.

School children's voices,
as I gather in the cat,
sing over the hedge.

Sunchoke leaves browning,
hanging lankly on dying
stalks swayed in wet breeze.

Our wren

Tiny ball of wet,
brown fluff, sings tiddly-diddly -
madly from the yard.

The Journey by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew
 what you had to do, and began,
 though the voices around you
 kept shouting
 their bad advice – – -
 though the whole house
 began to tremble
 and you felt the old tug
 at your ankles.
 ‘Mend my life!’
 each voice cried.
 But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
 though the wind pried
 with its stiff fingers
 at the very foundations – – -
 though their melancholy
 was terrible. It was already late
 enough, and a wild night,
 and the road full of fallen
 branches and stones.
But little by little,
 as you left their voices behind,
 the stars began to burn
 through the sheets of clouds,
 and there was a new voice,
 which you slowly
 recognized as your own,
 that kept you company
 as you strode deeper and deeper
 into the world,
 determined to do
 the only thing you could do – – – determined to save
 the only life you could save.

Stars spangling black sky,
indigo shading from East -
laundry almost done.

Mid-November

Morning sunrise of
salmon, cerulean stripes;
birds calling for seed.

Friday the 13th

Wind rushing, tickling,
blowing leaves from branch and roof
clearing out the sky.

November afternoon

Golden leaves falling
through turquoise sky striped with gray
unto verdant lawn.

Mid-autumn

Books, books and more books
boxes and stacks, piles and rows
waiting for winter.

Awake in the night 
awaiting the weather change,
head aches and knee aches.

Fall foliage burns bright
against the gray morning air.
The greens hum deeply.

Poetry share

 irreverent baking

I should be upstairs with the others, drumming up ways
to heal the world, save the animals, pray for water
in a far-off continent, devote the remainder of my days
to a catalog of restorations. But this morning, it was the matter
of scones that drew my gaze, and my feet remained
planted in the kitchen. One must never ignore the instinct
to create, is what I told myself, and soon the counter was stained
with flour, my hands sticky with dough, the house inked
with the smell of blueberry possibility, and I knew I was not wrong.
This was my prayer, my act of healing, my offering, my song.

Maya Stein

Music of morning -
birdseed spattering, scattered
upon fallen leaves.

All Soul's Day

Golden light slanting
illuminating the ground
under yew bushes.

All Saints Day 2015

Trees must have received
the memo - the month has changed -
leaves are raining down.