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SONG WITH INDIGO
Maples
with their wide leaves
sing green notes
Their tones
ascend
descend
swell
And skip octaves
above
sometimes below
Within a vernal
breeze
insistent in its caresses
All punctuated by
sun notes in basso profundo
Baby cedars and
maples
ferns
and gooseberries
Have found their
own place to punch through soft decay
Three companions
sit in silent meditation upon fallen trees
Surrounded by
bear scat and bear beds
Where mothers and
cubs have left their round impressions
They tread softly
and in reverence
They listen
receive images and wisdom
They dream their
dreams
They share their visions
Cherished by one
another and the sacred ground
Where Spirits
undisturbed
prevail in its serenity
The companions
are bound in friendship and mission
More than a half
century separates the birthdays of the beings
Assembled in this
forest where the pileated
woodpecker
Shouts his
background Gatling cry where
ravens'
Staccato comments
are woven into robins' songs
The youngest
speaks with wisdom beyond his years
But who among the
group has not been chosen
By a force unseen
unknown before this time
To gather here?
All are bound in humility to hear and to receive
Guidance
energy
and will
with Spirit blessings
Rachel Oliver
6 .20.07
Copyright 2007 by Rachel Oliver
DEADCARVILLE
Season of dust and desiccation steals into this
old heart
Weary of the heavy lifting
sifting and sorting
Land of wildfire
ghosts and mischief-makers
Brings a taste of mold
herbs
and the barnyard
A place like a fine wine about to lose its
premium taste
It must be absorbed by the whole spirit
with no reserve
Sensed through the nose
drunk in
rubbed into the skin
The cast-offs
swept into the woods
fenders rendered
With holes and rust
sleep
in bliss hosting
Creatures of many phyla:
mantids
rattlers
chipmunks
There is no push here for skyscraping
influence
greenbacks
Perfect contours
celebrity
youth
beauty
Stone slabs of the dry river furl and curl
smoothed by water and time
Bringing the peace of a sweet death
retreat
rebirth
Rachel Oliver 9.15.07
Poet and Author
(209) 966-2412
PATTERNS
A small squirrel
takes his place
On a podium for
symphonic endeavors
The finches are
his unruly musicians
Fence lizards
keep time
As they pump
up down
Bellies painted
iridescent blue
The Black Madonna
fountain
Blesses all
within her grand sphere
Beyond the window
screen
A jet contrail is
a long feather
Clouds in the
evening
Become vivid
mare's tails
They tickle the
personal
Set off memories
of forbidden love
Electricity
fire's up the spine
Or is it down?
Lightning flash!
At a great age
beyond youth
Life takes its
toll on a frame
That sprouts
nodules spurs
Sags pitches
forward sideways
But the heart
whose vessels
May be pinched or
corroded
Can sing as it
never did−
It soars to
stratospheres
The old ones
in silent contemplation
Souls
nourished recaptured
Love as perhaps
they never did
When their hearts
could not see
Rachel Oliver
Poet and Author
(209) 966-2412
Gathering
of the Tribes
Seated in the
round with camaraderie
New friends
share stories
Imaging
renaissance
For a run-down
foothill town
Save open
space keep water pure
Protect
wildlife improve the schools
Bring in clean
industry strengthen healthcare
Divert traffic
do community gardens bike paths
Ah well...
conspiracy theorists
Rising like
tattered mummies yet again
Resurrect
McCarthy from the dead
Imagine
sinister phlogistic plots
Borne down from
lofty channels to destroy
The Venerable
American Way
Of waste
destruction
Homophobia
ethnic hatred violence
In fear
they snipe natter grumble
Cough up
diatribe and monologue
Hoping to chant
their ‘Ain’t It Awful’ litany
Until we
suffocate beneath the trash
Rachel Oliver
Poet and Author
All poems copyright 2007 Rachel Oliver
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