Tag: Garden

INVOCATION

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Honor the frail onionskin
cast by the wayside where a snake
has rubbed its sleeve free
in the course of defenseless rebirth.

Protect me when regeneration
dictates some plaited hull to surrender.
Lead me through each forward motion
demanding we embrace fulfillment.

~*~

Teach me admiration
for these obstinate weeds
– their resolute profusion,
even when I pluck them.

Shield this garden
in its cultivated rows.
Restore our mislaid tools
in the morning grass.

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full Green Repose collection, click here.

 

LINKING HEAVEN AND DIRT

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Now, he wonders. Are there any squirrels in literature
as mythic powers? Not science? And then,
in Old Norse! There’s RATATOSKR. (Rat-tat Oscar!)

“carrying hateful words”

the messenger between the eagle and the top of the tree
and the dragon at the base
all this running up and down

Yggdrasil, the sacred tree

Just like Jack and the beanstalk
or Jacob’s angels on the ladder.

*   *   *

to see a squirrel as cute misses the point
as in teeth

there are advantages in developing
a taste for garbage

bounding, bounding, break

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.

 

TAKING HOLD, AS A VENTURE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I’m not that young, even to be this foolish
and this time, a month of rainfall starts
with fireworks, of course, viewed from our second-floor deck
before consulting a plumber about a bathroom
and heating for the barn
or a boiler replacement in our cellar, connecting
natural-gas appliances and restoring the downstairs toilet
and shower to use in a house

before drafting radical views of both the Garden of Eden
and Gethsemane and then the doctrine of Inward Light
alas, by year’s end, both would flower to book length
or, should I say, all? this time around, getting serious
as connecting the dots in a seedbed

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.

EXODUS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

If spring arrives without rain,
would the root and leaf open?

Seed that has not rotted
or satisfied hunger,

become buried too deep
or fallen on stone,

may reply, in its own season. And so,
in your own way, rise up and walk.

Keeping your heart tender,
within reason.

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full Green Repose collection, click here.

MOVING, AS IN SEEKING ROOT

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

we move. like the water, like the wind
– across rock, across soil –
until people speaking of common activities
and customs will completely baffle

sometimes the growing season’s quite short
compared to our place of origin
even so, she wants tropics
where everything in the closet
will mildew before sunrise
and there’s no worry of frost

we’ve gone underground, ourselves
after trusting too much in human love
emerged not on rock or air wholly
but collected from scattered places
and pieced back, as best anyone can
with blueberry-stained hands

so what’s the name of your divinity?
your desires? your natures?
the apple of your eye?

even the forest seeks climax
she’ll say, quartering a winesap
its burgundy ringing

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.

PLAIN GRAY AND GRAYING

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Within the range of distinctives
of nasty red, the Capitol black
the ethereal albino instead
he aligns with the eastern gray
and the western gray.

Yet who would be saint of the squirrel?

Not Lord Rama, who caresses one
as a pet. Nor the cultivating Hermes.

The Blackfoot know him as Old Man.
As he was becoming.

*   *   *

of course squirrels have faith
of a practical sort
in running the wire, in leaping from a branch
and landing a full eight feet between trees
with such airy jurisdiction

*   *   *

in a flash         such as music
or the tail        as a sail

just leap
and grab hold somewhere    

*   *   *

the question, at heart, what was in his blood?
as well as what was it becoming?
not the patriarch, then          free from bondage

*   *   *

overhead, the years overlap
underfoot, the roots tangle

to be light, then         lighter than pigeons
or laughter and tears

become gray pussy-willow                 at the end of winter

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.

NERVOUSLY, IMPULSIVELY, SCRATCHING

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

what happened to all the nuts
planted back there
acorns with their hearts ripped out
all his transports in this cosmic trap
in the breach             the yard could as easily be jammed
with half-buried books
waiting to be devoured

all the same, he darts into hidden pages,
spitefully                   aware his plot was unfolding
more than ever expected

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.

IN PLANNING FOR THE YEAR

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Just what more do we need
in addition to the beginnings of two panels of ferns
behind the lilacs – my woodland mirror

or a blooming tepee with gourds and climbing beans
surrounded by zinnias for my Lady of Sunday Comics
in the heart of the exposed swamp

and the race to implant the kitchen-door garden  …

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.

HOLE UP OR RUN

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

he could hole up
with long-suppressed luminous temperaments

if only he could scale every surface except glass
shimmy up the black steel pole and raid the bird feeder
hang upside down from a sunflower

moving toward transition
an untested dream
from the stockpile     admits to darling insecurity
in the hole     the tree     the ground

faint implausible rhythms     chirps more lasting
if not so lucrative

*   *   *

every tree branches, so you choose in a flash
and keep running     in the desert he had wondered
about squirrels so far from the nearest tree
the ones who live in burrows
whether somewhere they’d made a wrong turn

a deer makes a bigger target
than foraging for dynamite

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.

BEWARE OF OWLS DISGUISED AS PARAKEETS OR SPARROWS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

Ever seen a squirrel caught in a bramble?
A seeming escape leading nowhere?
He could tell you.

*   *   *

He could tell you
he’s lucky to still be alive.

*   *   *

There are those who insist love is nothing more
than a seasonal disorder, an allergy or a virus.
Makes sense when you’re speaking of Sick With Love.
But how do you cope dealing with females
happier with thorns than leaves and berries?
Or when confronted by some dog?

*   *   *

Running along a phone line, a squirrel
never falls over. To hell with gravity.
It’s the strength of those long, skinny toes
can reach around a stick. Hold tight.

Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.