Tag Archives: rain

AFTER RAIN 2

Posted on March 31, 2015 by John | 8 comments

Dawn’s soft light steaming,
rain’s last embrace still clinging,
love spent overnight.

photo_challenge/ephemeral

8 Comments

Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Poems 2015

Tagged dawn, Drought, Dry Creek, rain, weather, weekly-photo-challenge

RAISONS D’ÊTRE

Posted on March 16, 2015 by John | 6 comments

                                       Now in the quiet I stand
                                       and look at her a long time, glad
                                       to have recovered what is lost
                                       in the exchange of something for money.
                                            – Wendell Berry (“The Sorrel Filly”)

Looming closer, a swirling darkness just beyond
the thought of summer’s water that is not
frozen deep in the Sierras to feed our rivers

and canyon leaks—of brittle fall and cattle
gathered at an empty trough. The creek dries back
and sinks in March, lifted to new canopies

of sycamores dressing. Skeletons of old oaks
stand out between greening survivors, some
wearing only clumps of yellow mistletoe

hanging like reasons, raisons—like raisins
clinging to a leafless vine. Each season
spins the same dry song, yet we find our place,

harmonize and sing along, lifted like precious
moisture to tender leaves, a basic ascension not
available in the big box stores, unrecorded

in the history of our presence. This may be
the new normal for old people—that daze
of amazement we have been working towards.

6 Comments

Posted in Poems 2015, Ranch Journal

Tagged "The Sorrel Filly", Blue Oak, cattle, Drought, Dry Creek, Kaweah, Kaweah River, poetry, rain, San Joaquin Valley, water, weather, Wendell Berry

LAYERS OF DIRT

Posted on March 13, 2015 by John | Leave a comment

This ground recovers our presence
with leaves and weeds, most all
of our mistakes erode with flowers,
explode with colors leaving seed

as accomplishment sags like ridgelines
of old barns and brittle wire between
broken posts as we sink satisfied
into the soil rich with the work

of hands. Calloused hands, hands
a horseback that track our thoughts
when we were green and learning
to see and think the hard way.

As we breathe, all the chiseled chins
of the rough and gruff retreat
to live as monuments in rock piles
with the honesty of rattlesnakes—

an immortality stirred into the earth
that can’t be purchased, but is always
upon always like the layers of dirt
our future depends, rooted within.

TIME TO LOVE

Posted on March 12, 2015 by John | 4 comments

Gail Steiger

Two months from Elko
busy branding calves,
begging for rain and grass,

we listen under an empty
overcast to “A Matter
of Believin’” as if Gail

were here with 100 years
of ranching lessons
in poetry and song.

South slopes all but done,
thin feed gray on clay
showing again,

it’s time to love
this short spring
wrapped in wildflowers

with our old friend
and glass of wine—
the whole show

mostly behind us now,
we indulge ourselves,
embrace the storms

of good fortune
we have worn well—
believing and trusting,

adapting like cattle
to these same hills
just harvesting grass.

4 Comments

Posted in Poems 2015, Ranch Journal

Tagged "A Matter of Believin'", cows, Drought, Dry Creek, Gail Steiger, poetry, rain, weather, Wendell Berry, wildflowers

ON GREEN, ON GRAY

Posted on March 5, 2015 by John | 13 comments

Haven’t wondered about Heaven
since Sunday school’s cold
pearly gates and alabaster walls

seemed drab by comparison,
and the blinding shine of silver
and gold eternities much too bright

even for the pure. Out of dust
and dirt we rise, generations
personified in living colors.

We need not preach poetry
or pray for more than what’s
before us full with awe—

small enough to see through
purple stems of Wild Hyacinth
on green, on gray—I believe.

WPC(3) — “Reward”

13 Comments

Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal

Tagged grass, Greasy Creek, heaven, Minature Lupine, pearly gates, photographs, poetry, Popcorn Flowers, rain, resurrection, Section 17, weather, weekly-photo-challenge, Wild Hyacinth, wildflowers

RAIN IN THE GROUND

Posted on March 3, 2015 by John | 5 comments

Perfect for early bloomers,
Fiddleneck, White-veined Mallow,
London Rockets pale the pasture.

Rain in the ground, thick Filaree
overreaches like loose-fringed
lettuce for more—more of the same.

Grass ahead of the cattle, it’s war—
every seed battling for real estate,
real dirt damp, for sun and rain,

green hills puddled with spilt paint.
Everything perfect on it’s own, yet
I fret with the brittle momentum

of lean, dry years—months of dust
and hay—a hard pace that interferes
with becoming forgiving as this ground

exploding in all the colors of rain.
Desperately, I reach through
early morning black for light.

5 Comments

Posted in Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal

Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, photographs, poetry, rain, resilience, water, weather, wildflowers

SPRING DAWN 2015

Posted on March 1, 2015 by John | 13 comments

Just short of heaven,
dust and ashes come alive
to color hillsides.

WPC — “Reward”

13 Comments

Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Poems 2015, Ranch Journal

Tagged death, Drought, Dry Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, rain, resurrection, weather, weekly-photo-challenge, wildflowers, wildlife

HOMEMAKING

Posted on February 28, 2015 by John | 8 comments

                        Perhaps man has a hundred senses, and when he dies
                        only the five senses that we know perish with him,
                        and the other ninety-five remain alive.
                              – Anton Chekhov (“The Cherry Orchard”)

The past walks here, all the dead
horses and livestock men grazing
a hundred and fifty springs—

all the promises and passion spilled
upon this wild mat of grass and flowers,
naked lovers idly pinching petals

along the creek for centuries
within the mottled shade
these same trees have cast, yet see

to keep alive. We have had
our moments here, left ourselves
so wholly that we rise and rest

among them, add our song
to the canyon, our cries to the sky
to forever make our home.