Still Waters

Still Waters

©2018 Susan Noyes Anderson 

O be not lulled by placid sea

nor lapping waves

of harmony

stand warily beneath a sky

of azure born

to soothe the eye

lean soft against the stolid tree

serene in all

its symmetry

embrace but do not claim the breeze

that rustles gently

through the trees

for deep within each peaceful thing

a wildness waits

and will be seen

the oceans roar, the heavens burst

the branches whip

the winds reverse

and e'en my steady soul breaks free

unfettering

the wild in me

∞§∞

Sometimes I fear the wildness in this world, but I make every effort to seek and appreciate the good in it. Quotes like the ones below help me find my way to acceptance, even appreciation. (I do confess that nothing thrills me more than a violent thunderstorm or waves pounding the beach with unyielding ferocity, so maybe there is a bit more of the wild in me than I realize.)

"God loves all the flowers, even the wild ones that grow alongside the highway."

– Cyndi Lauper

"Wild waves rise and fall when they arrive; and that's what makes the peaceful sea alive."
– Munia Khan

"She found herself over a long and treacherous road, and the more treacherous the road became, the more of herself she found."
– Atticus Poetry

The winds will blow their own freshness into you and the storms their energy."
– John Muir

"By forces seemingly antagonistic and destructive, Nature accomplishes her beneficent designs - now a flood of fire, now a flood of ice, now a flood of water; and again the fullness of time, and outburst of organic life." 
– John Muir

"All the wild world is beautiful; everywhere and always we are in God's eternal beauty and love."
– John Muir

Our Creator didn't get this wrong. It's what we do with the wildness that matters. 

=)

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Secrets of the Sea

Secrets of the Sea

©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

When my own tides are at low ebb,

I stand beside the sea.

Bright waves of truth I used to know

come washing over me.

The sand dampens beneath my feet,

connecting me to ground.

A sacred message to my soul

rises in every sound.

Its rhythm whispers ancient tales,

soft secrets of the deep, 

reflections of the promises

my spirit longs to keep.

And I embrace the mystery:

the pulses of the earth,

the highs, the lows, the ebbs and flows,

the watery rebirth.

Peace lands so gently on my shoulder,

lifts me on its wings.

My freed heart opens to the sea

and every gift it brings.

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The Path of Peace

The Path of Peace

©2017 Susan Noyes Anderson

I love those peaceful moments of the heart

when mind and spirit finally run free,

the fleeting moments, seldom set apart,

when every soul is stilled to breathe, to be.

The quiet morning, jeweled in drops of dew,

the dusk as sunset colors fade to gray,

the mountaintop with wildflower view,

the friendly clouds to float each fear away.

A white dove calls; an eagle takes the sky.

A raindrop freshens bits of budding spring.

The redwood tree sends branches reaching high.

Soft sweetgrass waves its welcome, beckoning.

Across the earth, the beauty is profound:

serenity and nature, hand in hand.

The senses rise in sight and scent and sound,

collecting peace from grove to sea to sand.

And yet, absent the grace and power of God,

no wave would crest, no blossom bless the air.

It is His path of peace that all must trod,

and He waits patiently to lead us there.

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The Tree in Me

The Tree in Me

©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

Plant all my roots in rich brown earth

and stretch my branches wide.

Let golden rays of morning sun

fill every space inside.

Surround my leaves with bright blue sky

and float me on a cloud.

Set free the seeking soul in me;

remove the bleary shroud.

Make of my spirit something grand.

Expand the light I see.

Open my eyes to sacred gifts

that lie fallow in me.

Raise up new growth on mountain tops;

spread seeds from crest to crest.

Help me to claim and cultivate

the ground my heart loves best.

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Two Pumpkins: haibun for the ages

Two Pumpkins: haibun for the ages

©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

The pumpkins are already sitting on my porch. "Aren't you getting those a little early this year?" ask my husband, son, daughter. I answer in the negative, later realizing they are right. Circumstances have made of me a paradox this season: an aging person in a hurry for change. It's as if the wind that blows every falling leaf to its final resting place could propel and remove all the unwelcome detritus of my life, as if the browning of summer and spectacular burst of fall color might put an end to this summer of distress, replacing it with orange hues and scarlet splendor. I long for brisker days; cool, crisp air, the scents of wood and spice. And yes, two pumpkins on my porch. In September.

The silent tree waits.

Tired branches loose their burdens.

Swirling leaves flutter.

Assignment: Write a haibun with one paragraph about change, 

followed by a haiku.

(A haibun is a prosimetric literary form originating in Japan, 

combining prose and haiku.)

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The Mountains Are Calling

These beautiful works of art by Rachel Pettit are warming my heart this week. 

In fact, I sat down and wrote a poem about them! 

"Autumn's Harmony" by Rachel Pettit

The Mountains Are Calling

©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

Take me to the mountain crest

along a winding trail.

Let the sweet air fill my chest;

lift me like a sail.

Spread the sky before my eyes.

Anoint my soul with trees.

Invoke the splendor of each rise;

impel me to my knees.

Garnish me in autumn leaves;

grind me to rough-hewn stone.

Brush all the earth in golds and greens;

dust me in grit and bone.

Infuse my veins with rich, brown earth

and point me at the sun.

The clouds will be my lofty berth
before the day is done.

"The mountains are calling, and I must go."

John Muir

"Wasatch Beauty" by Rachel Pettit

I first met EG CameraGirl through AlphabeThursday, one of Jenny Matlock's delightful memes, and we have been commenting back and forth for years. I just learned that this wonderful friend and photographer was killed in a tragic car accident last week, and I wanted to remember her on Warm Heart Wednesday because her friendship and photos warmed my heart every time I visited. My sincere condolences go out to Tina's family, and I hope they know how deeply she will be missed by the many bloggers whose lives she touched on a regular basis. 

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Loving the Land

Loving the Land

©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

Their roots were in the land;

the land was everything.

The old ones took a stand,

inured to suffering.

Hard work was what they knew,

hard work and sturdy hearts.
They held God in their view,
gave Him their sacred parts.

He came by storm and flood,
breathed wind and uttered rain.
He smiled in sun-warmed crops,
frowned droughts of wasted grain.

Like Job, they persevered
and counted blessings twice.
The land was theirs, revered,
worth any sacrifice.

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Exaltation: A Journey into Light

Image ©2010 Rose Braverman

Exaltation: A Journey into Light

©2014 Susan Noyes Anderson

The road of life is rough and steep

with little ease along the way.

Some rivers cut and plunge so deep

they throw us back to yesterday.

We pick up things along the path

to carry with us as we go.

They weigh us down when times are hard

or lift us up and help us grow.

Quite often, we can see the light

that beckons from beyond the shade,

but other times the view is dark

and progress must be blindly made.

It matters not; the trail is marked

by twists and turns beyond control.

This is the journey all must take

to sanctify the human soul.

To bend, not break is our desire

and by His hand we will succeed.

A sacrifice was made, well made,

and God alone knows what we need.

In His own wisdom, we reside.

I would not thwart His will with mine.

And yet I cannot help but dream

of gentle stream, of soft sunshine.

Why must the storms come crashing through,

the waters roil and rise so high?

The jagged rock looms slick and sharp;

the thunder swallows up the sky.

And we are left to brave the night,

a night that stretches on and on.

The moon goes out; the stars fall down;

hope flickers, wanes, is nearly gone…

And then a spark…a glow: sunrise.

The day is won. The Master’s grace

shall never yield to darkness, yet

He cedes to us our part, our place.

We lift the load, resume the journey.

Faith renewed, we carry on

with burnished hearts, the light in us

refined each time we wait for dawn.

His light will turn our hearts to gold
as we, in faith, await the dawn.

"Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory 
of the Lord is risen upon thee." – Isaiah 60:1

Image ©2012 Brian J. Matis

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A Little Birthday Bird Told Me...

Some mothers know just what to do

to build a cozy nest.

They know where every twig belongs

and choose only the best.

Their young are nurtured carefully

in colors warm and bright.

To comfort and protect them brings

these mothers pure delight.

They gather feed to fit each need,

 

till every mouth is filled.

Their eyes are ever watchful, and

their love songs never stilled.

How wonderful such mothers are. 

What beauty they impart.

How blessed the little ones they bear

and care for, heart to heart.

Dedicated to my mother, Darlene Robbins,

and her very cozy

Robbins Nest ~

where every child 

finds love enough

to grow. 

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Would you be mad if I told

everyone how old you are today?

Because you sure don't look 87!

;)

We love you.

Sue, Dave, and the FAM

(Are you wearing your new necklace??)

Arise and Umbrellize

Finland, photo by George F. Mobley

©2014 Susan Noyes Anderson

 

Umbrellas offer solid proof

that weather's not in vain.

Surely a drop of rain deserves

a bit of notice.

What shoddy arrogance denies

the weeping skies in

heads left bare and
hats left home?

Don't float the notion soggy hair

is any less than an affront.

A front deserves respect.

This rain works hard for you.

Don't dis the dew.

Arise and umbrellize!

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Snow? Mais non!

The Mill by Andrew Wyeth

I'll take my snow behind a window, please.
Let it fall freely past the frosty pane,

whilst I sit in my parlor quite at ease,

boots dry, exempt from sidewalk, stairs, and lane.

I will not fault its beauty, nor its grace.

In truth, the sight is pleasing to my view.

Yet I've no wish to feel it on my face,

no urge to build snowman or don snowshoe.

Snow is a splendor better left alone

to drift or swirl or hang upon a bough.

I cannot like that icy undertone

and shall not breach my refuge ere the plow.

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Blessed (and Grateful) Be

Sometimes my heart is washed in tears,

or overcome by foolish fears,

but most days find me safe from harm

with all I need to keep me warm.

 Though every life has best and worst,

I should be grateful last and first

for gifts I’m given, large and small,

that show me God is over all.

Tall trees rise up, embracing sky,

in colors pleasing to the eye.

My spirits soar as shades of blue

emerge through leaves of changing hue.

Each budding branch of early spring

erupts in anthems sparrows sing.

My fingers brush the velvet skins

of blossoms, and new life begins.

 My feet are grounded in the earth,

and they have carried me since birth

to places near and places far,

traveling under sun and star.

My fate belongs to me alone,

compelled by neither king nor throne.

I choose the pathway I will trod,

a freedom granted me by God.

 Words are my joy, their power profound:

unspoken, parsed, released to sound

or written on an empty page,

the hearts of others to engage.

 A family gathers ‘round me near:

loyal husband, children dear,

mother kind and father rare,

brothers and sisters beyond compare.

These golden treasures feed my soul,

comfort me, and make me whole.

The morning dawns and yields to night.

Sunrise. Sundown. All is right.

I offer gratitude each day,

my thanks a gentle price to pay

for blessings large and blessings small

that God extends to one and all.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING 

TO YOU AND YOURS!

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Whitney...And a Fish Tale

Somebody's hubby went salmon fishing in Oregon.

He and his buddy caught four BIG fish.

Guess who has 21 bags of delicious filets in her freezer!

Yep......That'd be me.

And this would be my fish-catchin' man 

and eye-catchin' son atop Mt. Whitney.

(ID: The two super cute ones up front.)

Life is good.

=)

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