"Lessons from the Blue Heron"

Lessons from the Blue Heron

Like you, I wait,
but where you stand
motionlessly patient,
I'm in over-drive,
buried between boxes
and possessions.

With slow,
steady wingbeats
you descend
into shallows,
free to take off
unencumbered.

I repack boxes,
my pile
for Salvation's Army
grows larger -

my desire
to mirror your simplicity
a possibility -
if only I can survive
the process.

by Margaret Bednar, February 24, 2014

I will not be posting anything new for a week or two.  I will visit and comment, though.   We are REALLY purging this time, down=sizing, simplifying, putting our home up for sale, packing up TWO kids belongings as they are renting their own places … (how can that be?)

I adore taking nature walks and I admire the Blue Heron's grace and peaceful demeanor (if you can get close enough - they are buggers to photograph).   With six kids (two in college) and having been married for almost 24 years - we need to ENJOY ourselves more - it is so easy to get caught up in working for our possessions- not interested in that anymore!

And since this is 55 words, I will link this to Friday Flash 55.  

"Seeing"

"Seeing"

Snow crystals dust my mitten-tip
their future dismal,
shine but a few minutes more -

no chance of becoming.

A fragile existence
we humans often face,
become crestfallen -

melt into indifference

until a restless spirit
stones our lack of will
with hope -

gifts us into seeing
minutes, hours, days
as swirling possibilites.

And we dream.

by Margaret Bednar, February 20, 2014

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Get Listed with Kenia Cris"  Click on over if you want to see her word list from a science fiction book about a post-apocaliptic world "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?"

Well, I thought I was a goner with this selection of words, but somehow I scraped together 55 words - and that means…. this is also linked with Flash Friday 55 over at G-Man's blog, "Mr. Knowitall".  Doors open Thursday at 8:00 pm.

"An Invitation"

An Invitation

A frosted glance she sends my way,
shivers my spine and steels my breath,
dares me look with eyes afresh
upon her barren, frosted breast

where treasures lie, displayed anew.
A frosted gift she sends my way
quite diff'rent from her heated gaze
of languid blues and fanning lash

where time abides with gentle sighs
and lips a glist'ning with sweetened tea.
A frosted glance she sends my way
as if to say "Bundle up, quick,

don't miss this beauty of soft grey
where silence sings a soft sweet note
and wonder kisses crisp, pink cheeks.
A frosted gift she sends my way.

by Margaret Bednar, February 17, 2014

A dried & open Sweetgum ball (1 tree = hundreds of sharp "treasures'

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Sunday Form Challenge - Quatern".  I didn't' get it done in time, so I have also submitted it to "IGWRT's Open Link Monday".  

For the full details of what this form entails, please see the form link above.  I did use artistic license and changed the repeating line (first line in the first stanza) from glance to gift in alternating stanzas.  I also have one line that is only a count of 7 instead of 8 syllables. 

Her in North Carolina, we have a few patches of snow left, but the grey beauty is melting away…  

and for I Heart Macro #40, below:

"Summer on the Kickapoo"

Would you like to hear me read this poem?


Check this out on Chirbit

Summer on the Kickapoo

Ancient paths meander
north, south, east, west,
within coulees carved and snaked
beside the banks of the Kickapoo.

From Wilton to Wauzeka,
imprints of muskrats, beaver,
white-tailed deer, play n' grace
curving slope and hill.

Raccoons, woodchucks, mink,
otter, fox, embed footprints
and unlike Hollywood stars, wash away,
leave glory and permanence to Mother Earth.

Slight of stature, she tickles her way
through forested hills, valleys, sandstone cliffs,
replenishes mosses, ferns, hemlocks,
her wildflowers gracious bouquets;

nurtures bald eagles, warblers, sandhill cranes,
diversity her specialty, extends gentle passage
to canoes gliding beside trails dotted with hikers,
fisherman, horseback riders, campers.

To experience summer on the Kickapoo
is to languish in the warmth of God's smile.
May the prayers and efforts of those devoted
be enough to keep her pure.

by Margaret Bednar, February 14, 2014

This is for a poetry prompt I am hosting over at "Imaginary Garden of Real Toads - Artistic Interpretations" featuring artist Toril Fisher.  I had the privilege and crazy fun to float down this river with Toril on a cold, rainy day this past summer and I hope to be able to do so again.  Laughter really does float :)

Her painting here and others she is currently working on (also see the Imaginary Garden link) will be on display and for sale at the Driftless Cafe in Viroqua, WI in May 2014.  This series is painted on beehive lids she found in the woods.  They have become her canvas for compositions with images of beauty and interconnectedness of all living creatures and our amazing Mother Earth.  Each painting is $300 (plus shipping) and can be purchased now but must remain available for the showing.  Toril will donate a percentage of her sales from this show to the Xerces Society.  The Xerces Society advocated on behalf of threatened, endangered, and at-risk invertebrates and their habitats.  From the world's rarest butterflies, caddisflies that live solely in one stream, to declining bumble bee populations, the Xerces Society is dedicated to protecting invertebrates and the ecosystems that depend on them.

I realize this painting resembles Autumn a bit more, but I have used "artistic license".

Toril Fisher is a farmer (Second Cloud on the Left) and artist and her website can be found HERE.

And for those who Geo Cach, here is an interesting location.  It is along Old Highway 131 Trail, and is located on the old Schroeder Mink Ranch.  HERE

"Snow and Coffee"

Snow and Coffee

Coffee, hot chocolate,
white mocha latte - warm up.
Matter of days we'll be throwing a frisbee.

This week?  Snow!
Bonfire, sledding, people wave -
spontaneous community,

quality conversation
with a neighbor.
Snow continues to fall,

kids towing sleds,
throwing snowballs,
eating snowballs. Fun.

by Margaret Bednar, February 13, 2014

This is an Erasure poem written for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Out of Standard".  Of course, Isadora Gruye always has a twist - use a current local news source.

Well, winter seems to be the "big news" today so I went with it.  Nowhere to go, except the neighborhood for the next few days.  I personally love it!  As long as it is for a few days because I moved south for Adirondack chairs and sweet tea!

The article is from our local newspaper "News & Review", original article by Jeri Rowe.

"February is"

February is

shades of grey and tan,
dull sage green
with etchings of black;

like a bashful beauty
wrapped within woolen coat;

or a cardinal flashing through
forest's canopy.

I take my cue,
plump pillows of grey & tan,
swipe soft-green upon lids,
slip on little black, paint lips red -

drop my robe, remind him
spring's almost here.

by Margaret Bednar, February 9, 2014

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Imagined by Heaven" - featuring artist Lisa Graham, HERE.   Also look her up on Facebook.

Also linked with "dVerse Poets Pub - sketchbook in-the-moment poetry" - Claudia has us looking out our window and writing what we see.

This will also be for next week's Friday Flash 55 over at Mr. Know It All's blog HERE - perfect for Valentine's Day, I think! 

"Weekend Get-a-Way"

Weekend Get-a-Way

Beachside.  The word itself

draws a sigh.  Sand, sun,

not summer's emerald tinted waves,

but winters slate-gray

courts Atlantic's vast expanse. 

Her steady, almost solemn breath

greets us each morn, dolphins slice

parallel paths, seagulls pose

against a tangerine sky,

the perfect whelk, collected,

our footprints imprint our brief sojourn

upon her tide-swept shore.

by Margaret Bednar, February 7, 2014

This is for Friday Flash 55.  I am STILL re-running the two weekends I had with different daughters at the Outer Banks of North Carolina.  Ocracoke is my favorite island, and I can't wait to go back.

For those of you who are living in the wintery wonderland of "Antarctica Michigan" and other northern states of the U.S.A, maybe if you do what I did when I wrote this … closed my eyes and tried to feel the heat of the sun and sand - maybe this will warm you a bit.

"Birthing A Poem"

Birthing A Poem

Rarely is it a bursting desire
or a secret unearthed,
more often it's a pausing,
a quietude that invites reflection.

It's an image often glimpsed,
captured with film, sometimes quickly,
other times background, lighting,
composition agonized over.

It's words poured forth
as if ruptured, flowing effortlessly,
other times doubled over,
labor pains so intense I swear it's the last one -

but after a few days my eye sees an image
my heart wants to hold,
and well, I've rarely been recognized
for my discipline and restraint.

by Margaret Bednar, February 6, 2014

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Find Your Creative Space".  These photos are examples of me taking my time, and getting lucky with the birds that happened to be flying by.  

"Wracking"

Wracking

Riding rolling waves over pirate ships, war,

graves of loved ones bound for Charleston

and destinations unknown -

a whelk, knobbed and streaked, 

laid to rest gently upon sand freshly piled high

amongst seagrass and vine.

What secrets have you seen, of history,

of mystery that swirls and churns about

treacherous Diamond Shoals?

Many lie neglected, battered, shattered 

beneath our feet, fragments further crushed,

pulled back into ocean's broiling waves.

Lone survivor, we basket you, wash, bleach, 

brush, oil, shine, place you upon a shelf - "collected" -

open many a book, search for what you can't say.

Margaret Bednar, February 3, 2014

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday".  Wracking is the "age old profession" of scavenging the beach.  We enjoyed two "winter" weekends on Hatteras and Ocracoke Island and found a lot of shells - but the shell found here was the only "perfect" large one we found.  We feel really lucky.  

The top image is also linked with "I Heart Macro - week #38"

Below is exactly how and where we found it on Hatteras Island, perched gently upon a sand dune amongst sea grass:

"Happiness"

Happiness

Happiness isn't a feeling

we should wait for,

in fact,

shouldn't be a goal

nor a mood we slip on.

Not something to get right,

like a mathematical equation

nor something captured.

It's an awareness

of the gifts we have to give,

the pressing close -

a guarding even,

of our true character

yet proudly sharing it,

unapologetic of who we are.

by Margaret Bednar, February 2, 2014

I like to think one of my greatest accomplishments is raising happy children.  I have been fortunate to have a few mini get aways recently with them and I am struck time and again at their good nature, enthusiasm, and generosity.  Hanging with them makes ME a better person, as I do not naturally embody those characteristics exactly.

I have been introduced to Anais Nin (1903 - 1977) - She is known for her erotica, but from what I can understand through research, she did that for a desperate need of money.  I perused her quotes HERE and I find them fascinating.   She wrote diaries - "The Journals of Anais Nin" and I think her quotes might be taken from this.  My poem is loosely based upon my impressions after reading many of her quotes.

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Birthdays in February - Ayn Rand, Alic Walker, Anais Nin"  We were to focus on the idea of "Individualism".