“The Poetry of Nature”
Gallery II
The Beginning of Life
"Trees" by Joyce Kilmer:
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
High Flight
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds,—and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew—
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
Extract from Kahlil Gibran’s “The Prophet”
And now you ask in your heart,
"How shall we distinguish that which is good in pleasure from that which is not good?"
Go to your fields and your gardens, and you shall learn that it is the pleasure of the bee to gather honey of the flower,
But it is also the pleasure of the flower to yield its honey to the bee.
For to the bee a flower is a fountain of life,
And to the flower a bee is a messenger of love,
And to both, bee and flower, the giving and the receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy.
People of Orphalese, be in your pleasures like the flowers and the bees.
Mountain Meadow #1
12/6/22 by PineTreePoet
I wear lots of hats in the mountains
I’ve got a lot to do
I’m watching and smelling and tasting
sensations many more than a few
The mountains also wear lots of hats
some are snow, others stone, and many pine
me and the mountains with our many hats
we get along just fine
“The Root and the Sky”
autohor - unknown
The flower does not ask for fame,
It takes the sun, it takes the rain.
With quiet roots beneath the dirt,
It heals the quiet, hidden hurt.
And opens up its face to pray,
To live its beauty for a day.
“Part In Peace: Is Day Before Us?”
Part in peace: is day before us? Praise His Name for life and light; Are the shadows lengthening o’er us? Bless His care Who guards the night. Part in peace: with deep thanksgiving, Rendering, as we homeward tread, Gracious service to the living, Tranquil memory to the dead. Part in peace: such are the praises God our Maker loveth best; Such the worship that upraises Human hearts to heavenly rest.
“A Little Pine Tree”
by James Foulk
Little pine tree so,
tiny are you now,
near the pond,
you will grow.
Surrounded by many
trees, but no other
pine trees,
do I see.
You need others,
of your kind,
near you, so
you won't feel so alone.
Maybe someday,
you will have,
friends to talk
with in your way.
Hope to
see you
again some
fine day
From the poem,
“In a little Country Church”
by Francis Duggan
Silence and peace 'twould seem to me
Has found a place to hide
In little church by wooded hill
In peaceful countryside.
I have found something in here
I've never had before
Something that may disappear
When I walk out the door.
A Hawaiian Poem..
“Blossoms Eternal”
autor - unknown
A garland bright, a fragrant thread,
Around the heart its love is spread.
The flowers bloom then fade away,
Yet in our hearts, they always stay.
America, the Beautiful
Words by Katharine Lee Bates, Melody by Samuel Ward
O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!
“Butterflies”
autor - unknown
Butterflies go fluttering by
On colored wings that catch the eye.
On wings of orange, and silvery blue,
On wings of golden yellow, too.
Butterflies float in the air,
Making their homes most anywhere:
The rainforest, field, and prairie land,
On mountaintops, and desert sand.
If winter brings the cold and snow,
To warmer climates, off they go!
Returning home the following spring,
Beautiful butterflies on the wing!
“To Be a Flower”
by Chandra Lynn
To be a flower is profound responsibility–
Planted firmly against the wind
dressed and made up
beautifully
on its worst days
forever in oxymoron:
expected to simultaneously
cheer the wounded and broken
and celebrate the joyous, victorious, the proud.
To be a flower is profound responsibility–
trained to bear the weight of a brief elegance
with unaffected majesty.
The Water Lilly
by Maria Carado
She rises from the murky
Depths of the pond;
Unsullied and undiscouraged.
The frog hops on her bosom.
The fish steals a kiss from her cheek.
The rain throws droplets on her
The withered leaves fall on her.
Her quietude is so strong
The pond sits in silence
Praying
by Mary Oliver
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
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