TEMPEST

tree-164025__340

TEMPEST

Wild and relentless the storm roared,
its might irresistible;
Fearsome force
snapping and erasing so much in its way.

Trees that looked so mighty yesterday
are now mere cricket bats and sticks,
as the winds, play and snap and throw them
Here and there.

The taller the trees, the easier they fall
and yet they looked so gigantic the day before,
when I walked and looked in awe.
Short trees and bushes fare well,

as they spin and bend with the wind.

Poor Daffodils didn’t stand a chance,
Their long slender stems easily snapped.

Garden furniture on the deck were but toys,
easily re-arranged. They slid,
they spun and were placed
Here and there.

Tempest was playing garden design.

As to the fences, the Storm didn’t much care,
gaps appeared easily, at random it seemed,
creating new views and a haven for dogs.
who before only had one garden but now were free.

Me? I had plans for today. Makes me laugh,
how little we know about our days.
As we write our lists, our ambitious agendas.

This is how come I trouble you this morning,
having thrown my list to the wind.

© miriam ivarson

cyclone-2102397__340

Dignity in Storm

DSC01093 (1)

Dignity in Storm

The Poplar, so statuesque 
reaching for the sky,
in its richness and elegance;
Fearlessly risking a great fall.

The spruce, so mighty,
more yielding in its strength;
Dancing its wild dance, 
in rhythm with the wind.

Beautiful are the Birches
gracefully bending down,
Letting storm and gusts pass;
With ease rising up again.

Sacred are they all
in their acceptance and grace;
I see them as part of us
and we of them.

Opening our minds and hearts
we give the trees;
Recognition of their own selves,
their sacredness and dignity.

As they give the same to us.

© miriam ivarson

100_0141