Nature’s Fury

October 4, 2017

Our planet sways,
Twirling madly around
The glowing orb of light
We have called the sun;
And here we call home.

Water and air and soil
Compromise in space to
Allow us purchase here,
And we do so very little
To thank Mother Nature.

Despite many hazards,
We leave forests empty
And seas spoiled abroad.
We ignore the warnings
Hiding in tree rings and
Long forgotten stones.

Buried like seeds, they
Rest not in peace but in
Wait for the right time
And the right season.

Only then will they rise.
Sprouts among giants but
Strong as an alder bough,
Ready to form in tandem
The eaves of this church
We now worship within.


I’ve been told, though never seen,
That once each month in moonlight
Can be found some other beings
With eyes like gems in sunlight.

Though they seem to want to play,
Their goal remains each spring:
Go trick some children out in day
To catch in faerie rings.

The aos sí will keep their mounds
Free of mortal wandering;
At night you might just hear the sound
Of pixie folk a’ pondering.

If you listen to the sidhe,
Then hope may never find you.
Mischief is what’s in their creed
Like white-thorn bush in late June.

The Celts know not to dare disturb
These faerie circles’ kind,
‘Lest they find that deadly herb
Within their blood entwined.



September 25, 2013

The best kind of things
Are the ones that don’t
Make sense until you see
The ins and outs of what
Goes on inside.

Open me up,
Create a cross section
Of this flesh and bone,
And count the rings:
One, two, three.
There are wonders in
This world that one
Can only find beneath
The layers of time.

Muted shades of
Autumnal leaves float
In blustery breezes,
Striking my face with a
Surprising force. The sun
May penetrate the thin
Layer of grey clouds
Drifting above me, but
It can never pierce the
Bark on my trunk.

My heartwood stirs at
The sound of your voice.