I've been playing with that idea all day. Be wilder. Be wilderness. Thanks for the image of wilderness not bereft of growth and beauty. And the word bereft. Ooof.
As I reading the poem, the word ‘amazement’ stunned my heart and soul with a gentle nudge up or outside to a window: to a place where I could ‘see’ and feel something amazing. Which is only a gaze from where I am now: where the brilliant blue and luscious green remind me of their simplicity, awesomeness and beauty.
I read this very good prompt (and the poem) on my cell phone this morning when I woke up. My vision is failing, with my hearing. My Give-A-Shit button sometimes doesn’t work. My shoulder is still sore from a pickleball injury years ago. And I wasn’t in a very good mood this morning.
My vision must have been particularly blurry, because I misread that line about the northern pygmy owl being slightly smaller than my fist. What I saw first, then upon second examination saw again, was that that owl was “slightly smaller than my Fiat.”
Some Fiats are pretty small, but an owl the size of even the smallest Fiat would be one BIG owl. I just couldn’t imagine it. It still cracks me up to think about it—being starred down by an owl the size of a car.
The biggest news in my newsfeed is that our old friend Sondra is dying of cancer. She has it everywhere. Lungs, kidneys, brain.
When I look into the eyes of that enormous owl, I can see my reflection looking back. I’m very small in those large eyes. Small. Tired. Sad.
I’m loving be wilder. The wilderness isn’t bereft of growth and beauty. We have to shift our focus. Be wilder! Thank you.
I've been playing with that idea all day. Be wilder. Be wilderness. Thanks for the image of wilderness not bereft of growth and beauty. And the word bereft. Ooof.
What an amazing poem!!
As I reading the poem, the word ‘amazement’ stunned my heart and soul with a gentle nudge up or outside to a window: to a place where I could ‘see’ and feel something amazing. Which is only a gaze from where I am now: where the brilliant blue and luscious green remind me of their simplicity, awesomeness and beauty.
Thank you Julie!!
JoAnne
Hang on to that view, JoAnne!
I read this very good prompt (and the poem) on my cell phone this morning when I woke up. My vision is failing, with my hearing. My Give-A-Shit button sometimes doesn’t work. My shoulder is still sore from a pickleball injury years ago. And I wasn’t in a very good mood this morning.
My vision must have been particularly blurry, because I misread that line about the northern pygmy owl being slightly smaller than my fist. What I saw first, then upon second examination saw again, was that that owl was “slightly smaller than my Fiat.”
Some Fiats are pretty small, but an owl the size of even the smallest Fiat would be one BIG owl. I just couldn’t imagine it. It still cracks me up to think about it—being starred down by an owl the size of a car.
The biggest news in my newsfeed is that our old friend Sondra is dying of cancer. She has it everywhere. Lungs, kidneys, brain.
When I look into the eyes of that enormous owl, I can see my reflection looking back. I’m very small in those large eyes. Small. Tired. Sad.
Matt, I went from cackling at your Fiat misread to an intake of breath about your friend. Sending prayers for her, and all who love her.
This poem is beautiful, and the line— here is also the news...
Great one to get me started this morning.
Thank you so much, Julie.
Thanks for reading, Julie! You would probably enjoy Rosemerry's daily poems if you don't already get them.
You bet, it’s a joy to read each week.
I do get Rosemerry’s daily poems but somehow I missed this one. Thanks again!