Evidence of Their Influence; Evidently

I could leave poems where I find them, 

but they're always insisting I write them down.

Evidence of their influence; evidently

Meet Your Tree

“Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth.” ~Hermann Hesse

Meet Your TREE ~ all photos © akka b.

Listen & Receive

Be Still & Believe

Sing

 

Death From Itself

Who am I to keep death from itself? 

Would I push a birthing infant back inside my womb? 

Stick a cork in it? 

Who am I to keep death from itself? 

A child, born of seed, seeks its own light

Knowing as a tree how to siphon water into its capsule

And break through the very soil, which held it to its growth

Who am I to keep death from itself? 

Where does the soil for birth begin?

If not from the ashes of what has come to an end?

Who am I to keep death from myself? 

Denying it, its simple goal, of life

Re: turn ing

Leap of sQuirrel

There was a THUMP! 

A sQuirrel landed on the eve of the house near where I was working in the grass. (Yes, sometimes I work in the grass). He was a big fatty of a bloke determined to reach the tree branch above my head. I didn't measure, but the limb must have been a good 10 feet or more from the eve. He knew it too. As I watched him assess the distance - perched on the very edge - he prepared to jump - then backed away. He did this a couple times; pacing across the small stretch of roof, considering all his options. By the way - he totally looked down; eying the distant ground where I was sitting. Hmn... ground squirrel or tree squirrel? Either choice was life or death, make it or break it kind of crazy. But this beast was not the type to bother with the long route. What he really wanted was the branch, because the branch was the gateway to a posh arboreal highway fit only for the ballsiest of the squirrel kingdom. 

Salivating for a glimpse of the impossible... I egged him on.

"JUMP - JUST DO IT!!" 

I've been wanting to JUST DO IT for a VERY long time. And I've been "egged on" by many to take certain (creative) plunges over the past months and even years. Sure, I've bounced from eve to eve navigating possibilities, but every time I get to that edge - I manage to inch myself backwards. So you may understand why I felt personally invested in the 'Leap of Faith' of this fat bushy tailed rodent. I had no fear for him - and as it turned out - he had no fear for himself either. 

HE DID IT!!! 

But it was a dang close call. If he had been off by an inch it would have been sQuirrel soup in my lap. It was a thrust-of-life-belly-flop-into-dangling-leaves-and-twigs-but-land-climbing-moment-of-brilliance! Leaves fell on my head from this raucous display of enormity and that big fat little sQuirrel even paused to watch me laugh my head off at his efforts. Biggest laugh all week!

Respect dude.

Keep it COOL!

The trees always have a message:

i

wonder

what's 

inside

?

I Must Love You Blog

© akka b.

I must love you blog. I must love you in an everyday way. Coffee foaming from my mouth, tangled hair, tired eye, or eye(s), pinched skin, blushed lips, palpitating heart beat fire bang bang blast off sort of way! I must love you blog. BIG DEEEEEEEP BREATH.

So I've been sort of unavailable. And I forgive myself for it. There are times to run screaming deep into the wooded, musk infused, lichen growing, compost carpeted tree lands, sky falling, bird calling, acorn throwing places. But, just when I think I've 'been there done that' and can resurface... boom, boom, boom, I plunge again. Dunked. By heaven? By my own prayers? Prayers I made years ago to live this way. In the all-the-way kind of way? Probably.

But every time I do - go away. I also come back. Usually more ripe, more soft, more precise, more lovely then I ever thought possible. What is possible? What are the possibilities of living in this body that I love and am growing to love? Growing to live?

I must love you blog/I must love me. Even when I've been unavailable, there is purpose in this distance. Even in the seemingly unproductive mountain scaling times, there is purpose.

Falling Down

You can't get back up, till you let yourself fall down...

 

Let's not sit still anymore. 

Let's NOT go back to sleep. 

TREES ARE FALLING

listen

Today I ate waterfalls

Three large fallen Oaks

And seven spoonfuls of sunlight, 

between handfuls of MARCHing rain

yes

I'm a Poem Hunter and Poem Prey

I do use Poems to Pray

I was looking for place. Place within poem. Watching for home.

(That's the theme here isn't it?

Watching for home?)

yes, but

WHY DO TREES FALL?

And when they fall... let out  -  Big Thunder? 

Is THIS rebellion?

OR

Are the trees talking? 

Showing us talking?

Giving their voice, so we might find our own?

"Use your voice," said the Tree

(As it left its song all-over, the yard)

"Let my bark light your fire, human friend."

TREES ARE FALLING

listen

"If I fall for YOU... you MUST grow for me."

In the deep dark night of this rebellion.

WAKE UP POEM CATCHER

POEM PRAY

Don't go back to sleep

The Writing Tree (holiday rendition)

I wrote and read this poem especially for the 

Women's Business Social that convened at The Ojai Valley Inn 

last Thursday. Of course I wrote it only a couple hours before the event (when will I ever learn?) and from the crotch of a tree.

The Writing Tree

I found this poem in a tree today, 

Sitting under cloudy sky. 

The tree blanketed with lichen,

Watched me with its nose... and one large eye.

"Put me in the holiday mood" I said, "jingle all the way..." 

"Sorry, there is no holiday mood here." 

And I looked at him, but he looked away.

"But the ladies at the Women's Social 

are going to be hoping for a lot of FUN! 

I need your help, I'm running out of time...

I must hurry and get this done!"

SILENCE - was the tree's response, as clouds pushed around cold air. 

SILENCE - was the poet's response, with hunched shoulders and solemn glare.

"So you write poems in trees do you?" - Said a human who happened to walk by.

"NO I DON'T" I said, ------ with a long foreboding sigh! 

...

Now, I don't want to waste your time, with mistletoe and all that fluff. 

I could say it without feeling, but I might leave you, feeling... like it was less than enough.

I guess it doesn't matter so much, about tinsel and large glass bells, it doesn't matter about cider, and the way the holiday smells... 

What does matter is... how we get to bring notebooks up a tree, watch the storm clouds gather, and let our real hearts be.

Hold each other's... 

Ideas

Enthusiasm

AND

WONDER

And not worry about gift-wrap sales, 

Or making a cocktail-party blunder. 

Now I will leave you with a whisper, 

of what the tree finally passed to me: 

Don't expect the tree to 'give you' just because you come sit near, but know it will always listen, to what you want it to hear. And maybe if you're quiet, for long enough you'll see - what the tree is really giving, is the experience of being free!

May your evenings be filled with... 

Listenings,

Glistenings,

Wonderings,

Tourchings,

Loveings,

Lettings,

Forgivings,

Acceptings,

And  

Becomings

YOUR HOLI - DAY 

is every place you are, 

everything you see 

and the mountains of love - you let yourself be!

I Want To Be Olive Oil

To pour over things and rub into places, fuse flavors, stimulate appetites, move without hesitation, make skin glow...

I want to sit under an olive tree

I want to be Olive's Tree

I want to be Olive

Fragrant Olive

Delectable Olive

Oil of Olive


and


The Flow

One Perfect Day in August

 One perfect day in August

One complete and perfect day

I took my salad to a park 

To sit alone beneath a tree

But not alone beneath a tree

One perfect day in August 

On a blanket in the grass

The wind stopped by

And the clouds brushed the sky

And the bees galloped in

And a man flew a kite

As I sat beneath a tree

Eating salad on my knee

On a perfect day in August

One complete and perfect day

I put my back to the ground 

And my eyes began to close 

Touching one finger to, my nose

Just to see

How a finger on my nose might feel to me

One perfect day in August

 

kissed.

 

kissed

........

The warm bark, I did.

 With my inside thighs

Gratitude.

  

 For demonstrating how to hold, 

  When wind blows 

   

 Losing twigs 

  Has little measure

 When trunk is so naturally...  

 Tenacious.

T*R*E*E*S

DID YOU KNOW THAT TREES LIKE TO WATCH?

WELL, THEY LIKE TO WATCH.

NOW YOU KNOW