Hallelujah

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”The Dovecote” by: Lee Madgwick

 

Although the sky hangs heavy
in a threatening deep slate grey
the small tan stone dove cote
with its charming six-windowed cupola
radiates a settled sense of centered calm

further enhanced by the glow
of the golden afternoon sun
bathing it in a gathered beam
breaking precipitously
through the cloud cover
like a soft directed spotlight

wind whistling ‘neath wings
white birds of peace
glide in graceful circles
just above the steep-pitched
four-pointed shingled roof
perched on the stately tall
invitingly open arched walls

a single dove coos serenely
resting in one of the small portals
that sit centered in each wall
above the generous archways
that open onto the rich green grass
of a gently rolling tree lined knoll

the overall visual impression
is one of simple enduring beauty
the feeling evoked is captivating
a bles’sed sense of the sacred

shadowed inside someone kneels
concealed in a lover’s prayer

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at: dVerse

 

~ from the master who wrote this true love song ~


Garden Escape

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The dream broke
like a prodigal sun
on a startled winter evening
causing him to squint
blinking away happiness
like sand in the eyes of love

you were there
the dismissive femme fatale
in this final edit

and there was also
a dupe
an easy mark

you took his cues
took his keys
took his shoes
you took your leave
and took his heart
you took him apart

you took him for a fool

it wasn’t you didn’t want him
you said
you simply saw yourself
in a different movie
with a different ending

one that saw you
leave the casino floor
quietly alone
through the garden
alive with the fragrance of roses
and the joys of the lilly

and you thought “I’d like, too,
to plant the sweet alyssum
that smells like honey
and peace”

and in this peaceful quiet
there would be
no long farewells
no broken hearts
at least
not yours

and the abandoned man
in the leather chair
had my face

had no expectations
made no demands
held you responsible
for nothing
nothing

you’d rolled the dice
knowing the bones was loaded
jackpot
you’d won

from the garden
you reentered
by the cashier’s windows
collected your winnings

just then
a night lark sang
and a silver tear
fell hard as steel
from my crystal’d cheek
which you collected in a sterling box
to toss into the sea
for you had no need for tears
no need

so you climbed the winding stairs
silk purse in hand
my heart in your pocket
to place it at midnight
on your balcony rail
to watch it wither in the moonlight

I had no need for it
now
nor did you
any longer

nor most certainly
did you

simply no need

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at: dVerse

 

Your Move

“Love like chess, when you lose your queen, game over.” – Anish Giri

 
My ever diminishing past
starkly mirrored in my heart
my weakness — insignificance
my isolation — I am so alone

I lived at the light’s edge
that pooled in the night
on the bleak back streets
of the sad brokenhearted

I hid in the anguish
of the loveless who cowered
in the dark forbidden alleys
of the lost and forgotten

this was my heartscape
black as mid-winter night
a chill lightless horizon
no glimmer of hope in sight

trusting for me was toxic
no visible foothold for love
relations had been carnage
scattered lifeless and empty

’til came you — beautiful being
eyes brilliant and so alive
afire in strength and confidence
attracted — I watched you approach

compelled by your powerful aura
I was inescapably drawn to you
to the depth of your essence
I now emerge from the shadows

here am I
vulnerable in surrender
putting aside my doubt
and my pain

open and unguarded
fully exposed
in this moment
I reach to you

it is your move

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at: Sunday Muse

 

Beautiful Mystery

“In life, as in chess, forethought wins.” – Charles Buxton

 
Does he think me a fool
that I would fall for his ploy
be drawn into his trap
his feeble transparent gambit

I will not

but I feel a longing
as I search for discovery
praying I have not
exposed my hand

but I embrace the moment
I believe I see his truth
his diabolical vision

it is offering me
just enough insight
that I combust
with strategy

I feel confident
I see the right move
to unlock my truth
to guide my path

while I’m held
transfixed
by this beautiful mystery
I feel elevated
by my insight

yes – yes
I see it
I see it clearly
my perfect move

I must make it carefully
because everything rides on this

why so intense
you wonder
this is not a matter
of life and death
you say

oh yes
my friend
you are so right

it is far more serious than that


David Maverick © 2007

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at: Sunday Muse

Friday writings at: Poets & Storytellers

Still more poetry at: earthweal

 




Sage

Aphorisms
of all I can recall
these is ‘em
pulled these below
off the top of my head
but I really don’t know
maybe something I read
or heard one day
can’t actually say
but I do know this
I get their gist

 

You can’t win a mile race if you only run 5,200 feet.

Don’t criticize others if you are easily offended.

You’ll fail at every risk you don’t take.

The future is not tomorrow — it comes every second.

If you just can’t find an answer — the question may be the fault.

Even in darkness discoveries can be made — use more than just your eyes.

If you want to hear what others think — shut up!

There is no such thing as failure — only incomplete success.

If you keep tripping up — try going down.

The only thing certain is uncertainty.

You can’t outrun your history — nor your fate.

You may not always get what you want — often you get what you need.

Everything goes wrong — until it doesn’t.

The world may not be passing you by — you may be going backwards.

Bad deeds are like footprints — they follow you everywhere.

Easiest to ride the horse in the direction it’s going.

If you think you can’t — then you won’t.

Nothing beats working hard — except working smart.

The only thing that makes someone better than you is your thinking so.

Victory cannot be snatched from you — unless you let go your grip.

You will never finish last if you stay ahead of whose behind you.

If at first you don’t succeed — start at second the next time.

A better question than why — is why not?

If you follow your heart you will have a leader committed to you.

You can never go all the way — only as far as you went.

Love is letting someone be themself — not who you want them to be.

If you want to change something — do it differently.

You don’t know what to do, fine — but do something.

Falling for someone can never hurt — if they cushion your impact.

The person on top is simply the perch for the next one up.

Good intentions are never wrong — but some are certainly less right

You can’t be stopped if you just keep going.

One doesn’t need to know everything — just enough to appear to.

To win the race you need beat only one — whoever’s in 2nd place.

If you think you’ve been a fool, you are probably right
— and you’ll likely find someone who agrees with you.

The only real fool is the one who lived their life,
and hid their truth for fear of being called one.

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at: dVerse

https://youtu.be/4aqGjaFDTxQ
https://youtu.be/b5OIlK1g3yA

Solo Soul

ALL 6 DIGITAL IMAGES: Formatted, Focused, Light & Color Enhanced – by: rob kistner

~ the magical Oregon coast ~

 

I can no longer imagine
the soft Oregon spring rain
misting the morning light
bringing life to winter earth

I can no longer imagine
the stir of a summer breeze
shimmering across the surface
of an Oregon high mountain lake

I can no longer imagine
the filtered morning sun
falling gently golden
through an Oregon ancient forest canopy


~ Oregon ancient forest ~

I can no longer imagine
the snow covered alpine majesty
of the beautiful Wallowa Mountains
towering above Oregon’s Columbia Plateau

I can no longer imagine
the spectacle of pronghorn antelopes
blazing at 65 miles per hour
across the Oregon high desert

I can no longer imagine
the power of the blue pacific
thumping the huge arch rocks
on the autumn Oregon coast


~ Oregon Pacific coastal arches cove ~

I can no longer imagine
the magnificence of an Oregon waterfall
roaring 620’ from the clouds above Columbia Gorge
thundering down into the mighty river below

I can no longer imagine
the breathtaking cerulean blue
of a lake crystal clear to a 1,949’ depth
in the crater of an extinct Oregon volcano

I can no longer imagine
the stunningly surreal natural colors
and deep captivating meditative quiet
of the Oregon fossil-rich painted hills


~ Oregon’s Crater Lake National Park ~

for I need not imagine

I have experienced
these wonders
alone
face to face
unhindered by the disturbance
or interruptions
of another

I am a deeply devout isolophilian


~ Oregon’s John Day Fossil Beds National Monument ~

these wondrous natural treasures
open my soul
attune me to the earth’s vibrations

they enrich me
they reinvigorate my orenda
strengthen my mindfulness
align my chi
fortify my positive essence
purify my karma

this blessed isolation
reopens my eyes
to the beauty of solitude
to the pure gratitude
for simply being

I again feel merak flow through me
I find
peace of mind


~ Oregon’s Multnomah Falls ~

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at: dVerse

 

Daily Bread

 

To lift someone in need
to measure well in tolerance
to seek the components of peace
to create enduring possibility
to strive for truth

this is the real work
in the final sweep
‘round the face of time

this is what the soul eats

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at: dVerse

 

The Encounter

 

Sunlight falls dreamlike
through the woodland canopy
settling softly
around me

startlingly
a beautiful buck
bounds onto my path
standing proud

the golden sunbeams
work their magic

I’m mesmerized

he considers me briefly
then disappears

quick as a stolen glance
quiet as passing time

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at: dVerse

 


Shine On Me


by: Robin Macmillan

 
L ooking into the branches
they are leafless, springtime bare
so I leap up and grab a tight hold
invigorated by the cool, fresh air

strong branches reach up skyward
gently stirring, rustling in the sun
on the breeze this whisper carries
“soon your time on earth is done”

I gaze upon the gnarled tree trunk
the tangled limbs of twisted wood
and in this moment of pure insight
realize that I’ve always understood

that life and death go hand in glove
and in this short time that we enjoy
embrace truth, peace, equal justice
strive to build better, not to destroy

into the darkness we must bring light
must bring hope, stifle hate and fear
contribute more to those who have less
make the world brighter by being here

~
Light of the world, shine on brightly,
shine until we all are free!


by: Platon Yurich

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at: Sunday Muse

Friday writings at: Poets & Storytellers

Still more poetry at: earthweal

 

Northwest Autumn

It is three weeks until Autumn Equinox 2022. I first wrote and published this piece in 2008, significantly revised it in 2018, sharing it again on dVerse in response to a wonderful prompt by Amaya Engleking. I now have further refined it in small ways, and choose to share it again here in 2022. Much has changed in the 14 years since I first wrote this, but not my love for the Pacific Northwest, and most especially — Oregon. It is in the light of this abiding love, that I now share this piece once more here on dVerse, for OLN, September 1st, 2022. Peace!

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Autumn is upon us, as we enter our season of nature’s rest and replenishment here in the Pacific Northwest. The cycle of renewal will begin in western Oregon, where I lived for 25 years. I moved in 2015 to Seattle to be near my young grandson. Still immersed in Pacific Northwest beauty here, but Oregon will always hold my heart.

The summer’s dry period has ended, and agricultural irrigation has ceased. Harvesting explodes in October into November, including the grape harvest in our many vineyards. Following the gathering of this autumn bounty, the soil is left to recover. The fruit and nut trees, the vines in the vineyards, and the crop fields will begin the slow period of winter revitalization, in anticipation of the growing seasons to come in the new year. The Great Mandala of life turns steady. The rains that begin sporadically in late October, increasing into November, will work their magic — plumping Oregon’s world-class Christmas tree and holly crops, renewing the sparkle of these holiday icons, readying them for harvest.

Wild nature will also enter a period of recovery and renewal. The flowering plants that have dropped their petals, and the grasses and brush, gone late-summer golden, seek these nurturing rains. Mighty evergreens pause, conifers drop their cones, and deciduous trees shed their leaves all go dormant, and rest. The vast Northwest forests are enriched by this period of rejuvenation.

Streams, whose water levels have dropped considerably, will come to new life when rains begin to replenish their flow. Sockeye and Chinook salmon start their run upstream to begin their spawn. Rainbow, Brook, German Brown, and Cutthroat Trout, as well as numerous other species become active as waters rise and cool. Bear, deer, cougar, elk, coyote, big horn sheep, pronghorn antelope, hawk, osprey, eagle; the varied and plentiful wildlife of our region begin preparation for their unique winter rituals.

Autumn nudges into winter, a peaceful time of rest and restoration here in this breathtakingly beautiful region. A regenerative calm lies upon the lush land, as the season of sky-water arrives to quench nature’s thirst, and revivify her energies in this utopia.

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Just as the gardener
nurtures her tend
bending close
to nourish
and protect

so too nature stoops
to embrace
and refresh
her pacific northwest paradise

her autumn shadow upon the land
she leans down
and lets flow life-giving waters
to enrich this lush realm

she covers her beloved eden
in a soft blanket
of moist cloud

a shelter from chilled winter
to insure a rich bounty
when spring returns

abundant fruits
vegetables
and nuts

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hill-climbing vineyards

towering trees
too numerous to imagine

endless grasses
bushes
berries
and flowers

all will be spring succulent
from buildiing winter waters

mountain streams
valley rivers
swell with migrating fish

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as they journey home
up these fresh waters
of new birth

birds and animals
flock and gather
embraced by this season
of quiet replenish

in balanced step
and close harmony
with this cycle
they too
will welcome next spring
with plentiful new life

a sustaining love
this affair

life
nurtured to flourish
in the eventual spring

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*

published: rob kistner © 2008
revised: rob kistner © 2018
final revision: rob kistner © 2022

* More poetry at: dVerse

photos (top to bottom):

  • Autumn at Multnomah Falls, Oregon
  • Oregon Autumn rain on conifer needles
  • Autumn at Sokol Blosser Vineyards, Willamette Valley Oregon
  • Sockeye salmon, Deschutes River, Oregon
  • Autumn Cascade Mountain Lake, Oregon
  • Rebirth

     

    This “she” was birthed
    in his fractured dreams
    trusting as a forest fawn
    endangered as a snowflake
    falling on a May predawn

    unwitting captive
    to his fearful heart
    caught in his twisted fantasy
    conjured by his crippled soul
    his power is his fallacy

    always threatened
    he seeks to dominate
    to stifle her rising voice
    to keep her mute and under thumb
    tries to deny her right of choice

    covetous of her beauty
    envious of her intelligence
    sought that she would be just his
    in time she recognized the trap
    realized she did not want this

    with strengthened will
    she at last finds her voice
    speaks direct to what she sees
    startled by her forthright way
    he wants her silenced on her knees

    she — whose tears once seared
    this barren land
    finds her rebirth
    and makes a stand
    she says — fuck you!
    to his strangling hand
    and walks away
    from the startled man

    *
    rob kistner © 2022

    More haibuns at: dVerse

     

    Safe Harbor

    ”You’re a beautiful fucked up man… building a mystery” Sara McLachlan


     

    ~ Scene From A Mystery ~

    Fate had orchestrated this fortunate chance encounter. Fate was also unfolding this less fortunate, convoluted chain of events. What was she to make of it? Where could she begin in an attempt to unravel this mystery? Why had Eric threatened her tonight? Why had he looked so strange? Why was she being followed and photographed, by a vested man? Was her life in danger? These thoughts were tumbling through her mind when she was startled back to the present by Jack, the man she just met, literally stumbling into him as she fled. He was returning to the room with pillows and a blanket.

    “I will take the sofa tonight,” he said, “You’re completely burned out. I’m putting you in my room,” he continued in a kind and caring tone. “My bed is amazingly comfortable, and you need sleep, lots of good, deep sleep, it would appear.”

    He reached down and softly took Grace’s hand, helping her to her feet. Gently bracing her arm, he escorted her down the hall, and into his room. Stopping just inside the door, he said, “you will be safe in here. We’ll talk in the morning, about everything you shared,” and he gave her a quick hug, stepped back into the hall, and closed the door.

    Grace was grateful she’d met this kind person. She also realized there were too many questions to answer, too many unknowns, just too damned much to even think about right now. She certainly needed a safe shelter, and definitely sleep. “Yes, in the morning,” she mumbled to the closed door. Then, hugging her ringed leather bag, with the very mysterious envelope Eric had demanded, tucked safely inside… Grace shuffled across the room — and collapsed on the bed.

    fate is a puzzle
    how does one make sense of it
    best let it unfold

    *
    rob kistner © 2022

    More haibuns at: dVerse

     

    The River

  • This is a photo of the middle Clackamas River, this river I love. For a sense of scale, look closely, you will barely see a white water raft passing between the rocks. clackamas-river.jpgAuthor’s note: Not far from the home in which I lived for 25 years in Oregon, flows the Clackamas river. It falls from the Cascade Mountains down the westward slope of Mt. Hood, through a gorgeous rugged canyon. It is a young, geologically speaking, and powerful river. Cold, pure, drinkable water – alive with native trout. My son Justin rafted its whitewater rapids, and I fly-fished these waters. Every trip into this captivating wilderness freed my soul, touched my heart, and ignited my sense of wonder. This magnificent natural paradise is the inspiration for “The River!”.
     

    Gazing up this magnificent canyon
    cut by time and current
    in the great rock of the earth
    I marvel

    the power
    the beauty
    the determination
    of this mighty river
    sculpting this majestic work

    it tumbles
    relentlessly
    in timeless clarity
    over boulder and falls
    in onward resolve

    I’m captivated
    by the song
    of the wind
    that plays the boughs
    of the towering pines
    that scale the cliff walls

    it soars skyward
    then wafts gently
    down the lofty climbs
    brushes my face
    tosses my hair
    and dances past me
    round the river bend

    in this moment
    all is transcendent…

    I am thankful
    to know this sublime joy!

    *
    rob kistner © 2022

     
    clackamas-river2-web.jpg
    Photo above shows an excellent trout pool on the lower Clackamas River.

    clackamaswhitewater.jpg
    Photos above show rafters enjoying some of the tamer white water on the Upper Clackamas River. There are from Class I to Class V rapids on the river.

    Still more poetry at: earthweal

     

    ~ some river songs ~







     

  • Glide

     

    Could I but glide
    through the clouds
    like a bird in flight

    I would soar skyward
    in sweeping circles
    lifted on mighty thermals

    I would not be earthbound
    not a prisoner of these feet
    not captive of gravity

    each day
    would be thrilling
    would be freedom

    living in
    and for
    the moment

    soaring
    and swooping
    and giving thanks
    for feathers
    and hollow bones

    *
    rob kistner © 2022

    More poetry at: Sunday Muse

     


    Everflow

     

    We are temporal beings
    our awareness
    awaking slowly
    from some infinite place

    we flow forth
    on a current
    of pure energy
    in the stream
    of all consciousness

    our coming to be
    unknown to us
    as any mystery

    learned in stories
    in waiting relationships
    gradually
    we open to our identity

    our essence
    an enigma

    awareness dawning
    like the rising
    of a newborn sun

    we feel its warmth
    grow slowly

    we see not over the horizon
    because we see no horizon
    yet

    we comprehend no end
    immersed only
    in our beginning

    it is therein exists
    the miracle of life
    and the quandary of life

    our unfolding self awareness
    questioning how
    where
    why

    questioning infinity

    we are finite beings

    but in those moments
    infinite beings
    dreaming
    to sustain the moments

    we everflow
    from the waters of time
    as we flow into eternity

    watchers
    adrift
    on the river of life

    flow into me
    my love
    and we will be the waters
    of timeless life

    indivisibly immortal

    lovers
    in an eternal love

    *
    rob kistner © 2022

    More poetry at: Sunday Muse