Outside, the stars watch one by one
Orion hunts the coming sun,
while Cassiopeia curtseys, light
across the sky
At this hour, the world seems to sleep
though shy and timid creatures creep
to scratch out writhing worms
In one more hour, the birds begin
choir practice for the coming spring
as snowdrops burst through frozen earth
There is a hope in winter’s ebb
in the bejewelled spider’s web
as morning frost thaws into dew
And I shed tears to see landslide,
and tree-fall, clear-cut by our greed
while earth’s broad shoulders bear our burden
I draw a breath of gratitude
for this new season, life renewed
and wonder if we’ll heed her warning
© 2023 experimentsinfiction.com. All Rights Reserved.
Written for dVerse
Tonight, I host Poetics, where we are writing of gifts, be they spiritual, material, or perhaps, simply natural. Join us from 8pm GMT, 3pm ET for more poetry of gratitude.
Two moving posts today from poetess and hostess Ingrid. Gratitude, yes! 💗 Enjoy your evening!
Love this line: “choir practice for the coming spring” 🕊️
That’s how it sounds to me 🐦 🎶 thanks Michele!
Sounds good to me. 😊 My treat! Your poems and the singing birds.
Ah, Ingrid, I am grateful for both your prompt and your poem. I love your night-time landscape in the opening stanza and the interaction of the stars, while in the second stanza, down on earth, ‘the world seems to sleep’. I also love the lines:
‘There is a hope in winter’s ebb
in the bejewelled spider’s web’.
Thank you, Kim – I am glad you enjoyed it 😊
Wow!! Bravo Ingrid. I think this is my favourite of your poems
Glad to hear that, Gillena, thank you! ❤️
Such a beautiful poem of gratitude and hope for our earth! Well done Ingrid! 💞
Thank you Cindy 🙏💖
You’re welcome Ingrid! ❣️
I so love the delicate and fragile yet emotional and stirring imagery this poem evokes! 💞
Thank you so much Layla! 💖
So much beauty in what is…and the contrast with what has been taken away. But still, much room for gratitude. Wonderful imagery, as always. (K)
Thank you Kerfe. I really hope it’s not too late for us to sort this mess out!
This is beautiful, Ingrid. The hope spring brings every year, with her promise of renewal, is twinned, for me, with the grief I am experiencing, watching the savage cutting of trees all over my village. And even so, what housing there is is only for the affluent, no where to rent for the hourly wage earners who keep the village running. We are a strange species. Is that water or snowy ground in the photo…….if water, I worry about flooding. But maybe it is just snow.
Yes, we are skewed in our minds somehow. I wonder if we’ve always been this way, or if greed corrupted us? Don’t worry – the photo shows a frosted field!
Will we heed her warning… seems ominous with the landslides and earthquakes and the utter destruction and despair in the world today.
It doesn’t seem like we’re taking the slightest bit of notice, as we scrabble to get rich before all the earth’s resources are used up and ruined. Sad!
A cry from the heart. I can’t see a way out of this disaster we’ve created.
Neither can I, really. Perhaps we can mitigate the worst effects, but there doesn’t seem to be much political will in that direction.
“For this new season, life renewed”
Earth and nature patiently stew
While soldiers nervously asleep
Unaware tumult they’re beneath
In apprehensive slumber wait
Sargent’s abrasive bugle wail
They’ll scrape the frost from window panes
Marvel over the scenery change
Thank you, Ingrid, for hosting, your prompt itself is a wonderful gift to us.
Your illustration so very much reminded me of the old yellow wooden Army baracks where we lived, and slept, while attending basic training. That would be at Fort Hood, Texas.
Thank you, Jim. That’s interesting: these are terraced houses in my neighbourhood!
‘Tis a wonder when we round back to the world … gratefully. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.
Indeed! Thanks Brendan
We hope against hope and keep doing our bit for how can we give up! I love this Ingrid… from watching stars to welcoming the new season. Let’s be grateful for what we have presently. ❤️
Thank you, Punam, it’s the least we can do ❤️
Indeed! You are so welcome. ❤️
Nature always sends warnings. I hope we learn how to heed them!
So do I! Thank you 🙏
Beautifully written, Ingrid…I even think the first four stanzas could stand alone making the point well. Thanks for the prompt 🙂
Thank you Lynn 🙏
I was so moved by this piece, Ingrid. Besides the gorgeous rhythm as I read it aloud, I like the balance you’ve created between what we have and what we need to do. We cannot stop appreciating earth’s beauty as she struggles to survive. She hasn’t lost hope and neither can we.
Agreed! Thank you Mish 😊
Ingrid, I love the form of this poem and its beautiful images. What a compelling message! The photo of the fallen trees speaks volumes. I so love the photo of the snowdrops, a lovely sign of spring. The night time photo is gorgeous! <3
Thank you, Cheryl, I’m glad you enjoyed it 😊
You have gathered an amazing energy around this poem, Ingrid. Well done!
Thank you Nick x
Our poor world, but–
I’ve also been hearing “choir practice for the coming spring,” and it makes my heart swell.
No snowdrops, but we do have some crocuses blooming.
Always something to look forward too 🌷
When I read your poems I can close my eyes and I’m in them. Brilliant Ingrid.
That’s a great compliment! Thank you Vinny 🙏