—Poetry by Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
—Photos by Katy Brown, Davis, CA
SEEKERS….
Seekers of the exotic,
riders of water and wind,
shapers of jewels, jet planes & jazz,
builders of bridges & breakthroughs,
explorers of the psyche,
embryos this moment conceived—
whatever we will be tomorrow,
in a hundred years, or
at the last turn of the earth
under moonlight’s incantations,
whatever comes, may we lean
toward the language of roses.
(prev. pub. in Benicia-Herald)
Seekers of the exotic,
riders of water and wind,
shapers of jewels, jet planes & jazz,
builders of bridges & breakthroughs,
explorers of the psyche,
embryos this moment conceived—
whatever we will be tomorrow,
in a hundred years, or
at the last turn of the earth
under moonlight’s incantations,
whatever comes, may we lean
toward the language of roses.
(prev. pub. in Benicia-Herald)
MIRACLES
Not only
do miracles
still happen
but
they stand so
firm-footed
among us
as, hello
neighbors
lovers
teachers
friends.
Not only
do miracles
still happen
but
they stand so
firm-footed
among us
as, hello
neighbors
lovers
teachers
friends.
BENICIA WATERFRONT
Everyone, they say,
keeps an invisible space
around themselves,
a sacred space, a space
they feel most comfortable
keeping—uneasy
if that space is violated.
A man on the waterfront
kept no personal space.
I could have sat
on his wrist or shoulder…
Actually, I clung to
his ear lobe: we chatted
like friends of forty years!
Everyone, they say,
keeps an invisible space
around themselves,
a sacred space, a space
they feel most comfortable
keeping—uneasy
if that space is violated.
A man on the waterfront
kept no personal space.
I could have sat
on his wrist or shoulder…
Actually, I clung to
his ear lobe: we chatted
like friends of forty years!
GREGORIAN CHANT
We sense a masculine innocence
in trees under a serene sky,
a breeze lifting prayers
from our pores. We had driven
over mountains, through valleys,
now we camp where Gregorians
chant from cool cloisters.
This afternoon a shaft of light
moves from cedars and firs,
now beaming down on forest duff.
In these redolent woods,
all roots intermingle: we feel
atonement with the universe,
as after making love,
or when lighting a candle.
We sense a masculine innocence
in trees under a serene sky,
a breeze lifting prayers
from our pores. We had driven
over mountains, through valleys,
now we camp where Gregorians
chant from cool cloisters.
This afternoon a shaft of light
moves from cedars and firs,
now beaming down on forest duff.
In these redolent woods,
all roots intermingle: we feel
atonement with the universe,
as after making love,
or when lighting a candle.
POETRY SEMINAR IN REDWOODS
We’re relieved to
pull off the hectic highway,
enter old-growth forest.
Standing under a shaft of sun,
we wonder how one composes
a work of art under giants
which rooted at the time of Christ.
Arriving early, we cross two twigs,
cross two more, scuff a circle,
watch dust rise. We imagine
Indians in this grove. But, no,
appears we are alone… By shaking
sapling branches, we hope words
will fall our way, but no words fall.
Our time among redwoods
will seem both long & short.
We gaze through the canopy,
the sky a blue caesura. Breathing
deeply, we clear our lungs of toxins.
Digging up pens, we spring open
notebooks to the first blank page.
We’re relieved to
pull off the hectic highway,
enter old-growth forest.
Standing under a shaft of sun,
we wonder how one composes
a work of art under giants
which rooted at the time of Christ.
Arriving early, we cross two twigs,
cross two more, scuff a circle,
watch dust rise. We imagine
Indians in this grove. But, no,
appears we are alone… By shaking
sapling branches, we hope words
will fall our way, but no words fall.
Our time among redwoods
will seem both long & short.
We gaze through the canopy,
the sky a blue caesura. Breathing
deeply, we clear our lungs of toxins.
Digging up pens, we spring open
notebooks to the first blank page.
REVERIE AT LAKE TAHOE
Here, by pastel waters,
we met ourselves
and learned
that love truly given
is truly returned;
that air and sun
from distant worlds
will nourish us and help
us grow, that roots of love
go deeper than we know.
And so, by pastel waves,
we learned with elation
that once created
with and for love,
love is our own creation.
Here, by pastel waters,
we met ourselves
and learned
that love truly given
is truly returned;
that air and sun
from distant worlds
will nourish us and help
us grow, that roots of love
go deeper than we know.
And so, by pastel waves,
we learned with elation
that once created
with and for love,
love is our own creation.
Today’s LittleNip:
IN THE SILENCE…
Great Spirit,
may we assume
good intentions; believe
that love silently expressed
is heard & answered.
Great Spirit,
may we forgive &
be forgiven for flaws
that prove us all miracles
of nature, in progress.
_____________________
Thanks to Claire Baker and Katy Brown for today’s beautiful collaboration! Katy, the prodigal daughter, has returned to us with some fine photos to go with Claire’s poems, and, as I say, we are grateful to both of them for sending us this collection.
Today (Sat., 1/29), 2pm: Poetry of the Sierra Foothills (Poetry is Gold in El Dorado County!) Open Mic. Love Birds Coffee & Tea Co., 4181 Hwy 49, Diamond Sptings, CA (where Hwy 49 meets Pleasant Valley Rd.). Host: Lara Gularte.
_____________________
—Medusa
IN THE SILENCE…
Great Spirit,
may we assume
good intentions; believe
that love silently expressed
is heard & answered.
Great Spirit,
may we forgive &
be forgiven for flaws
that prove us all miracles
of nature, in progress.
_____________________
Thanks to Claire Baker and Katy Brown for today’s beautiful collaboration! Katy, the prodigal daughter, has returned to us with some fine photos to go with Claire’s poems, and, as I say, we are grateful to both of them for sending us this collection.
Today (Sat., 1/29), 2pm: Poetry of the Sierra Foothills (Poetry is Gold in El Dorado County!) Open Mic. Love Birds Coffee & Tea Co., 4181 Hwy 49, Diamond Sptings, CA (where Hwy 49 meets Pleasant Valley Rd.). Host: Lara Gularte.
_____________________
—Medusa
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