Morning glory

Wordworth's immortal lines begin, "The world is too much with us," but sometimes it seems the world leaves us all too soon -- as in the case of springtime flower blossoms, which seem only to have arrived before their blooms fade once more into the year's memories. Some lovely photos of apple blossoms at their best, plus poetry and commentary, at blog.amynelsonhahn.info -- keep clicking on those ads, people, and help make the blog even better!

This too does pass

Luck has trained us,
never stare at luck too long.
The truly beautiful does not remain
with fragile hearts, with feeble eyes.
We look, we ponder, we try
so very hard to sustain
what should last forever but one day --
we should not demand further.
Give an innocent cry,
make a chagrined expression,
a contorted dance of pain,
but always the world that is
is so much with us --
we should not demand further.
The truly beautiful does not,
however much we demand of it,
quite long remain.Copyright (c) 2012 Amy Nelson Hahn

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Meet me at the Station

Andrew and I took a trip to Brookview Station Winery and Goold Orchards recently -- and we came away very impressed. It's a very lovely farm, but above all the dedication to quality is evident, from the way the proprietors speak about their business to the name of their prize-winning blended rose wine, "Sunset Charlie," for their labrador retriever, Charlie. Anyone who visits this amazing family-owned orchard in Castleton, NY will enjoy a special treat -- delicious food, wine, and great company, as well as local history. Images of the orchards, as well as thoughts on what makes them buzz, at blog.amynelsonhahn.info

Spring encounter

In the green mossy stillness
you can hear each bee alight
and do its providential best
to further flowerlings' desires --
alone, how unfulfilled; and rightly
the small geniuses comprise
a loving network of engendered prime.
You can discover, deftly,
in the morning hour of May,
where filaments hold up their heads
listening for the purposed wing --
slyly you may spy them,
even listen as they swoop to touch
the petaled embrace of whiteness,
to reply the call bountiful of spring.
Copyright (c) 2012 Amy Nelson Hahn

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A bitter wind

"La Frileuse" or "Woman Chilled by the Cold" is a statue inhabiting the Wrightman Gallery of New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art; it dates from 19th century France, but could easily represent some of the countless souls who suffer the bitter winds on the streets of our cities in America today -- homeless and without hope. But spring is in the air as well, and we have to take courage. The pangs of winter do not go on forever. The last visions of a season we bid adieu, with commentaire extarordinaire, at blog.amynelsonhahn.info

Enfois, l'hiver

It seems the least
we leave our coldest hours
the most we find them once again;
and even amongst our friends
we shiver, don a cape --
times can be so bitter,
leaving least to least
and only small brown toes
to pick over the bones --
but invierno gives way:
unwrap, glad characters,
 if you can manage a brow;
the parade of spring, and then
the warmer months go forth.
Unwrap! We feel the light, and so
would hazard to release your woes.
Copyright (c) 2012 Amy Nelson Hahn

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Through a looking glass

What is it about a visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Temple of Dendur that generates reflection? The exhibit itself is full of them -- but it also causes a person to look back across their personal ages (and pages), and to wonder at what makes them tick. Before any white rabbits tell me it's too late, I wanted to thank my mom for all her hard work in raising us to love art and poetry (not always easy with antsy little kids!). More on the personal journey of reflection, at blog.amynelsonhahn.info

Reflection
(for my mom)

Perhaps, upon reflection,
the simplest study comes undone,
its facets unmoored, divided
like eggshell tiles and strung
together only at a frail,
quite tentative center --
what does it mean, then, to say --
"the center holds?" and this alone
preserves the scheme; to aver
that opposites, in the end,
do not negate or fail
but lend a larger strength?
Upon reflection, what is image
and effect loses distinction;
they continue on, as one.
Copyright (c) 2012 Amy Nelson Hahn

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Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be...cows

It's definitely springtime in Valatie when you start to see the baby Herefords in the field, galloping about next to their (somewhat proud/somewhat exhausted) mamas. But spring is also a time to re-evaluate: what can rebirth mean in our lives? Some moo-ving discussion, with photos of our favorite denizens of the pasture -- at blog.amynelsonhahn.info

Spring so sudden

And all of an instant
it was spring --
when a calvling or a foal
melted suddenly into our fold
instantly it was spring
and the frost began to decompose.
Spring arched its maiden back
and pronounced quite matter-of-factly,
the world is upon us;
and so a newborn mooncalf
is halfway round to age --
the wise world turns, and
all of an instant, quite suddenly
spring devises no more subtlety
than this: a child is ancient,
yet we in aged life hark half
to sound the shoals of regret
when easily we might be born again.
Copyright (c) 2012 Amy Nelson Hahn

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Box step

Rescuing a small box turtle from the side of the road may seem like an easy task -- but hold on! Do you really know how to do it? Don't touch that turtle! Do you know why? Before you wreck an innocent turtle's sex life forever, see these photos and read the blog -- it may change your life and the life of a turtle you love forever. Words and images and wildlife conservation, at blog.amynelsonhahn.info -- keep clicking on those ads, folks! We need to make the blog even bloggier!

The rescue
(for Tricia)

And after having heard
long-whispered tales
of your snapping cousins,
you trawl along the road
the first of our scorching days
like a maid in petticoats
tied to the tracks,
your once-sovereign shell
about to be cracked -- so that, softly
and with proper dignity utmost,
we scoop your oval shelter
and your seeming self inside
to the nearest tide and wait
for you to signal "Hail,
good brothers!"
But you merely slide
into the mud
after having heard
the distant tales
of lonely turtles
and fearsome birds.
Copyright (c) 2012 Amy Nelson Hahn

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The thought-less fox

When Ted Hughes wrote his timeless poem "The Thought Fox," he was writing about the "aliveness" (as he called it) of foxes and of the process of writing becoming one in the imagination. But when this blogger happened upon pile after pile of dead foxes, heaped up like so much detritus by the side of a forgotten trail, it somewhat derailed her thought process and got her to thinking more about what it is to claim "aliveness." Read and see more on this encounter, at blog.amynelsonhahn.info

Fox bones

Senseless, I know,
you lying there so cold
but nothing I could have said
would have stopped the twisting
of a senseless death
so many months before
the leaves had turned,
and when your fire had burned
with the sharp warm colors
of your ancient febrile tribe.
Nothing could cure
what ached in you save
a pellet or an arrow bright
with your very end,
now flung to the rushes
drifting in your shards,
on the very wind you enjoined
to scent your own dark prey.
You are insensate, this
I know, but I pray you
on your way.
Copyright (c) 2012 Amy Nelson Hahn

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The yearling

Ever see that old Gregory Peck tear-jerker about the little kid and the fawn? Well, if you haven't, you can just look at these pictures and read about the young deer visiting our backyard in New Jersey -- not exactly the Everglades, not exactly high melodrama, but from the deer's perspective there was survival at stake. More on this intimate encounter, in words and images, at blog.amynelsonhahn.info

The visitor

Like brushstrokes come to life,
the signal ravages of your fur
lift up and point
the way to food; here and there
they range about your mangy form
but only serve to show you plucky
and so much the pattern
for this time of year, for your kind --
nothing breaks your stride but
subtle noises (disliking disturbances)
and the need to feed placidly,
unguardedly, your deep tobacco eyes
lowered gently, your soft merlot nose
scenting -- nothing for once but peace
to feed at least for a moment, you dignitary
of the forest, daughter of the hinds,
a year in the world, in the woods.
Copyright (c) 2012 Amy Nelson Hahn

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Future perfect

It's almost Earth Day, everyone -- and we have lots of suggestions for things to do to get you in the proper spirit. What would the special day be without a trashless lunch or a nature treasure hunt? How about a picnic for the planet? These and more special ideas, along with gorgeous photos of fruit trees in bloom, at blog.amynelsonhahn.info

Song for Earth Day
(for Andrea and Elizabeth)

If only you could see
what I see in this little tree,
no one could be hearts away --
the world growing smaller
all the time, and people grown
to love it so much more.
This little tree reminds me
of the dimple in your knee,
of the flower behind your ear;
it compels me to compel you -- listen --
on this near-to-Earth Day --
think of all you still can do,
even before growing any taller --
there is so much you can do
to be worldly wise.
Copyright (c) 2012 Amy Nelson Hahn

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