Quiet, still, crisp blue skies,
a pallet of clouds strewn far and wide,
clouds of intermittent exhalation
and a smooth blanket of smoke,
warmly snuggling the village below,
as the sun ambles lazily along,
setting for hours across the sky,
roofs glistening from dew-drop jewels,
surviving through the glimpse of the day,
transformed into diamonds at night,
whilst summer’s skeletons adorn the land.
Lichen, lit up in this morning‘s low sun,
life, illuminated in 3-D,
through the complexities of one tree,
not barren, not lifeless,
not just a silhouette,
a quiet, slumbering wonderland,
not frozen, not yet!
Long shadows sweep slowly now,
across cold, distant fields,
as I sit and listen,
to noises near and far.
Through the vacuous cold,
I hear distant dogs bark,
the hum of a distant, lonely boat,
busy crows crowing,
and my little red-breasted friend,
wanting to be fed.
I’ll oblige, of course
and happily scatter,
some seeds as a sew,
love in the wrapper,
of gifts that I’ll give,
in this season of giving.
As the shortest day’s flicker approaches,
followed swiftly by Christmas,
we’ll get through these dark times,
as the calendar counts done
and the solstice passes,
we’ll see in a new year,
bringing back joy and cheer,
the likes that we’re used to
and which we’ll see again,
those of us lucky enough
and who must remember,
the year that ends with this December.
Those that we lost along the way
and how nature helped us every day,
like my friend the Robin,
a happy little soul,
regardless of winter‘s harshness.
A tiny teacher of sorts,
sharing wisdom and secrets,
but for a student,
someone to listen,
about how it’s the simple things,
the simplest things that matter,
like giving and sharing
and appreciating the moment
and perhaps especially,
good company too.