Poetic words flow much better in pleasant climes—
Springtime and autumn, more friendly for rhymes
Winter’s good too, we self-reflect well in cold times
But blazing summer melts words & numbs minds!
nature
Deep calleth unto deep
great mysterious
multitudinous
voice of the sea —
a composite of all
sounds of the world
brought down
by all the rivers
in their courses
through the lands —
all the sounds
the earth utters
to the heavens
in its daily life —
the tinkle and drip
of pellucid springs
hidden deep in
remote hill countries —
the rattling laughter
of summer streams
with rustling leaves
and piping birds —
the deep whisper
of the woods and
the boom and roar
as they wrestle
with the winds —
the crash of waterfalls
echoes of mountains
the rush of storms and
roll and peal of thunder —
the merry shouts
of playing children
commingled murmurs
of manifold labor and
brooding world-spirit —
the clatter and
grinding of mills
the tumultuous
straining voices
of busy towns —
the world-embracing sea
has taken in and blended
and harmonized all these
into its own eternal call —
as you, child of the world
sit there and listen
your own comes back
to you in that mighty voice —
deep calling unto deep
the soul of the sea
to the soul of the man —
________________
Ecob began his sermon: “I have long wanted some one whose soul hears, to write a poem on this subject, the call of the sea.” The good reverend already had the contents of the poem right there in his prose; I simply set it free for him and sincerely hope that the new creation is to his liking.
Poem of the April Palo Verde
Yellow.
Freaking.
Everywhere.

Shrewd
cactus is not cruel
it is just so damn thirsty
you’d be prickly too
Free but homesick
Only those in tune with nature seem to pick up on the energy in wind. All sorts of things get swept off in the breeze — ghosts, pieces of soul, voices unsung, thoughts repressed, love uncherished, and a thousands galore of spiritual ether.
The fall of October
October’s autumn
casts a gentle light
and a calm serenity
before the stark
barrenness of winter
is born to November
Windy winter night
snuggled into a warm cozy bed
weather wakes this sleepyhead
with a blustery December night
white clouds reflecting city light
cold drops fall fast and furious
a clattering house, mysterious
midwinter storms in and wails
frigid rain and whipping gales
December windows open
cold winter night wind
warms my soul but chills my bones
spring sleeps in the earth
Watching the April bottlebrush without spectacles
green & light shimmering
dancing in the sunlight
little red fuzzy flames
burn quietly in the breeze
mottled blue patches
of serene springtime sky
blaze beautifully behind
a lively bejeweled scene
medallions of shade and color
twinkle in the afternoon
a mama hummingbird hovers
with wings so fast, silence
is no longer golden — she is
the sounds of the winds
overtake my soul and
carry it far off into the skies
—Terri Guillemets
Questions of the Sky

—Anonymous, The Queries Magazine, 1890
Idling
lizard of leisure
idler in sun — bird shadow
how quickly he moves
Ecos
leaves — lovers
of the gentle breeze
trees — brothers
of roots that weave
soil — giver
of life through earth
sun — mother
of golden light’s birth
Nature lessons
Can plants be happy? If they get what they need, they thrive —