In a Drop ~ a plein air poem & meditation on our connection with nature

In a Drop

 

 

of saltwater,

you can see an ocean

blueing;

 

of rain,

you can hear blossoms

opening;

 

of wine,

you can taste a landscape

sunning;

 

of quicksilver,

you can scent weather

coming;

 

of ink,

you can touch a poet

dreaming;

 

of a tear,

you can feel your being

flowing.

 

 

Colin Goedecke

in the woodlands

of Morristown, New Jersey

March, 2017

 

Re: Birth ~ a plein air poem for our Spring Equinox

Re: Birth

 

            for our Spring Equinox(es)

 

First breath.

To last breath.

What flows between

is the reveling

and leveling

of living.

The many faces

and found graces

of loving.

The transcendental

moments ~

of great epiphanies,

deep ecstasies,

timeless memories.

The embodiments

of you becoming

even now

ever new,

ever free

to spring.

 

 

Colin Goedecke

on Braidburn Way

Morristown, New Jersey

March 20, 2017

 

The Great Blue ~ a plein air poem for a heron on a summer pond

The Great Blue

 

           meditation on a great blue heron

 

I love his presence.

His absolute stillness;

aura of solitude,

sacredness.

His long-legged patience

in the wind-stirred pond.

Gracefully at one

with everything;

wholly attuned

to every moment, movement

above and below the surface.

His watchfulness, sureness

despite the drift of time

and summer clouds,

into the split-second

he spies and elegantly spears

a shining fish, 

and flies off

in his Great Blueness

to a nearby bank

of cattail grass

to feast, and rest.

 

 

Colin Goedecke

on Kitchell Pond

Loantaka Brook Reservation

Convent Station, NJ

July, 2016

 

A Day the Sun Stood Still ~ a plein air poem for the summer solstice

A Day the Sun Stood Still

 

 

                  for this summer solstice

 

 

Today.

A day unlike any other,

past or future.

Not because the sun will stand

still, at the Tropic of Cancer,

then reverse

its northerly arc

and head radiantly south,

toward the Tropic of Capricorn.

Not because a full moon,

a native, votive Strawberry Moon

will, just once

in most of our lifetimes,

rise on the same plane.

Today is a day unlike any other

because it’s a new day

of light, lightness; 

rareness, wonder

open to one, to all. 

A day where our own stillness

can greatly illuminate.

Where we can choose

to move likewise;

clock-or-counterclockwise,

in phenomenal directions.

Can invoke a fresh season, 

infusion, green summer of self; 

bring ripening

to our life seeds,

fruits, vines, visions;

connect more deeply,

simply to the earth;

to the purely elemental

shining inside, around

and above us.

 

 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

On the Summer Solstice,

at the Loantaka Brook Reservation

Convent Station, New Jersey

June 20, 2016

 

Green Clouds ~ a plein air poem from the watery wilds of Alaska

Green Clouds

 

 

 

Green clouds

lie along the surface

of our coastal passage.

Clouds of conifers,

of Sitka spruce and cedar,

shore pine,

hemlock and alder;

that change shape by decades

instead of days;

by generations

of snow and light;

that share the shelter

of their deep-rooted solace

with the water,

the earth, the birds

and sometime-passing men.

 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

The Inside Passage, SE Alaska

July 2009

Klimt in His Garden ~ a poem for Klimt & Krabbe

Klimt in His Garden

        

      for Jasper Krabbé  at his 2007 New York Opening,

      on a painting of the painter Gustav Klimt

 

 

 He moves in a moonlength robe

through an evening green garden

of quietude; with hidden feet

that touch the muted grass and moss;

his figure almost afloat

under the first blooms

faint and soon fragrant

on the branches over his silent head

and soft beard, without thought

of brushes or canvases,

only this moment

savoring the poetry

of a Spring night

in his garden.

 

 

 

© Colin Goedecke

In Chelsea, New York City

March, 2007

Snowfall, a poem for winter

Snowfall

 

 

It powders down

onto the heads and shoulders

of men, houses, and horses,

whitens the teeth

of picket fences,

lathers the bristled faces

of Northern forests.

It boughs down

to the outstretched arms

of trees, tongues of children,

the folded wings of sleeping owls.

Confettis down

past millions

of living room, bedroom,

office, train windows,

seen and unseen.

Swirls down

in great silence,

eloquence;

with pure, hushing,

comforting presence.

 

 

©Colin Goedecke

January, 2014

by Central Park

New York City