As green as cenote water,
calm sacred well.
Jade, smoothed and polished
by Chac’s tears and sand
and one thousand year old maize
kernels from Tikal, grown
by the first father.
Straight blade edged by lightning
sings against the tree when I cut.
Grandfather will be pleased with me
when this jade axe I gift him.

r ~ 5/22/14

Vibrant hues of Autumn
Fades now into the
Winter water color hues
And bleak barren trees.

Days of frozen landscape
And dreams have to defrost.
All the ice and snows now
Cover the twigs once filled with roses.

Trembling in each gust
Barren trees moan, stretching
Gaunt arms towards bleak grey skies
Pleading for rebirth.

Sunset fades to blackness
Shrouding the silent earth,
Devoid of tranquil benediction
No ray of light or hope.

Awakening the resurrection
Of Spring's triumphant song,
Return of Thrush and Robin
Blending with all nature in jubilant symphony.

Until then the minor strains
Of the winter Hermit Thrush
Spiraling hope of the warmer days
And softens up the Arctic blast.

Then finally with the last
White-throated Sparrows gone
And the daylight hours increase
Spring arrives and Winter retreats!


~Timothy and Hilda~

~-Russian-~

Медленный Рассвет весны

Яркие оттенки осени
Теперь исчезает в
Зимой воды цветовых оттенков
И мрачно бесплодных деревьев.

Дни замороженных ландшафтов
И мечты нужно разморозить.
Лед и снег сейчас
Покрывают ветками, когда заполнены с розами.

Дрожал от каждого порыва
Бесплодной деревья стонут, растяжения
Гонта оружия к мрачное серое небо
Пледирование для возрождения.

Закат бледнеет до черноты
Зачехление немого земли,
Лишенный тихой благословение
Не луч света и надежды.

Пробуждение в воскресение
Торжествующий песни весны,
Возвращение молочница и Робин
Смешивание с всю природу в ликующая симфония.

До сих пор незначительные штаммов
Зимы отшельник молочница
Растущие надежды на теплые дни
И размягчает Арктический взрыв.

Наконец, с последним
Белый – Рубиновогорлый Воробьев ушел
И увеличение светового дня
Весна приходит и зима отступает!


~Тимоти и Хильда~

In the folds of the hills
and hollows
of my mind,
I remember a time
when you were free.
You were of the sweetest color
known to me.

No man could catch you;
I'm not even sure we tried.
It was such a sight
just to watch you
spread your wings.

Like a bird
you could fly
circles so high,
blue as the sky,
and free as the wind.

I knew someday
you would leave,
fly away,
no longer free;
my mountain bird
on a breeze.

r ~ 6/30/14

How can I do this alone?
Each time depression hits
Leaving me inside my head
Praying someone understands



Making me feel if I'm trapped
Everywhere seems always closed

Beneath the grey I wait,
seagulls scream at the coming fury
in attempt to shake it's resolve.
Wind rises, then stutters
as heavy stillness overcomes.
Silence now, as windows close
and the earth holds it's breath.
A single drop, heavy, crystalline,
leads the crescendo
as the Symphony begins.