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“What Do the Trees Know?
What do the trees know?
To bend when all the wild winds blow.
Roots are deep and time is slow.
All we grasp we must let go.
What do the trees know?
Buds can weather ice and snow.
Dark gives way to sunlight's glow.
Strength and stillness help us grow.”
― Winter Bees & Other Poems of the Cold
What do the trees know?
To bend when all the wild winds blow.
Roots are deep and time is slow.
All we grasp we must let go.
What do the trees know?
Buds can weather ice and snow.
Dark gives way to sunlight's glow.
Strength and stillness help us grow.”
― Winter Bees & Other Poems of the Cold
“Dream of the Tundra Swan
Dusk fell
and the cold came creeping,
cam prickling into our hearts.
As we tucked beaks
into feathers and settled for sleep,
our wings knew.
That night, we dreamed the journey:
ice-blue sky and the yodel of flight,
the sun's pale wafer,
the crisp drink of clouds.
We dreamed ourselves so far aloft
that the earth curved beneath us
and nothing sang but
a whistling vee of light.
When we woke, we were covered with snow.
We rose in a billow of white.”
― Winter Bees & Other Poems of the Cold
Dusk fell
and the cold came creeping,
cam prickling into our hearts.
As we tucked beaks
into feathers and settled for sleep,
our wings knew.
That night, we dreamed the journey:
ice-blue sky and the yodel of flight,
the sun's pale wafer,
the crisp drink of clouds.
We dreamed ourselves so far aloft
that the earth curved beneath us
and nothing sang but
a whistling vee of light.
When we woke, we were covered with snow.
We rose in a billow of white.”
― Winter Bees & Other Poems of the Cold
“Snake's Lullaby
Brother, sister, flick your tongue
and taste the flakes of autumn sun.
Use these last few hours of gold
to travel, travel toward the cold.
Before your coils grow stiff and dull,
your heartbeat slows to winter's lull,
seek the sink of sheltered stones
that safely cradle sleeping bones.
Brother, sister, find the ways
back to the deep and tranquil bays,
and 'round each other twist and fold
to weave a heavy cloak of cold.”
― Winter Bees & Other Poems of the Cold
Brother, sister, flick your tongue
and taste the flakes of autumn sun.
Use these last few hours of gold
to travel, travel toward the cold.
Before your coils grow stiff and dull,
your heartbeat slows to winter's lull,
seek the sink of sheltered stones
that safely cradle sleeping bones.
Brother, sister, find the ways
back to the deep and tranquil bays,
and 'round each other twist and fold
to weave a heavy cloak of cold.”
― Winter Bees & Other Poems of the Cold
“Big Brown Moose
I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a rascally moose,
I'm a moose with a tough, shaggy hide;
and I kick and I prance
in a long-legged dance
with my moose-mama close by my side.
I shrug off the cold
and I sneeze at the wind
and I swivel my ears in the snow;
and I tramp and I tromp
over forest and swamp,
'cause there's nowhere a moose cannot go.
I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a ravenous moose
as I hunt for the willow and yew;
with a snort and a crunch,
I rip off each bunch,
and I chew and I chew and I chew.
When together we slump
in a comfortable clump --
my mountainous mama and I --
I give her a nuzzle
of velvety muzzle.
Our frosty breath drifts to the sky.
I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a slumberous moose,
I'm a moose with a warm, snuggly hide;
and I bask in the moon
as the coyotes croon,
with my moose-mama close by my side.”
― Winter Bees & Other Poems of the Cold
I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a rascally moose,
I'm a moose with a tough, shaggy hide;
and I kick and I prance
in a long-legged dance
with my moose-mama close by my side.
I shrug off the cold
and I sneeze at the wind
and I swivel my ears in the snow;
and I tramp and I tromp
over forest and swamp,
'cause there's nowhere a moose cannot go.
I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a ravenous moose
as I hunt for the willow and yew;
with a snort and a crunch,
I rip off each bunch,
and I chew and I chew and I chew.
When together we slump
in a comfortable clump --
my mountainous mama and I --
I give her a nuzzle
of velvety muzzle.
Our frosty breath drifts to the sky.
I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a slumberous moose,
I'm a moose with a warm, snuggly hide;
and I bask in the moon
as the coyotes croon,
with my moose-mama close by my side.”
― Winter Bees & Other Poems of the Cold
“Bat Wraps Up"
Belly full, he drops down from the echoing room of night. One last swift swoop, one bug plucked from the air with cupped tail, scooped neatly to mouth. As dark grows thin and body heavy, he tumbles to tree and grasps bark, folds that swirl of cape tipped with tiny claws and snags the spot that smells like home, Then ...upside flip, lock on grip... stretch, hang, relax, yawn...
dawn.”
― Dark Emperor & Other Poems of the Night
Belly full, he drops down from the echoing room of night. One last swift swoop, one bug plucked from the air with cupped tail, scooped neatly to mouth. As dark grows thin and body heavy, he tumbles to tree and grasps bark, folds that swirl of cape tipped with tiny claws and snags the spot that smells like home, Then ...upside flip, lock on grip... stretch, hang, relax, yawn...
dawn.”
― Dark Emperor & Other Poems of the Night
“Der Raupen wunderbare Verwandelung, und sonderbare Blumen-nahrung”
― The Girl Who Drew Butterflies: How Maria Merian's Art Changed Science
― The Girl Who Drew Butterflies: How Maria Merian's Art Changed Science
