Enveloped with pine-
Stretched across statelines:
Beauteous blue upon envious emerald
Pooled amongst royal white mountains
Adorned with grey jewels of centuries
Emitting sweet, earthy aroma
She caresses the land.
Mother to lakes hidden by her red fir,
Provider to the fiery yellow cress
Hydrant for all animals alike.
M(ama) Rose keeps a chary eye
on her joint creation:
The provider, the mother,
The revered, grandiose puddle
is threatened by scarcity.
The royal white mountains,
Remain royal- but lack frost,
And thus the water retreats
Shriveling back 13 feet from shoreline
This once sacrosanct lake---
Devastated.


Keep Tahoe Blue?
Keep Tahoe Wet.

Among the twinkling stars
In whispering of air
During uncontrolled tides of oceanic deep waters
In darkness of nights
In narrow mountainous passes
In the dark deep forests
In the beauty of vast deserts
At the oceanic shores of continents
During wandering about the heights of this world
At the top of the Mount Everest
At the depth of Pacific Ocean
I searched you everywhere
But I found you smiling in the core of my heart
In the concert of chirping birds
During the blossoming of roses
With the spread of fascinating smell
And spring was prevailing everywhere

Taking pictures of the high mountain.
I see a spectacular site;

She's floating with the clouds,
Sunny, white, fleecy clouds.

Wearing a pink kimono with wings covered in Sakura flowers,
Doves flying around her head,

Snow capped mountain towering in the background
Peeking through Sakura trees.

Is she playing with me?
She's playing hide and seek in the mist.

When, I look at her playing,
She fills me with joy and makes me feel like a child,
She makes me smile.

Alas, she hides among the clouds once again.
I look and look but do not see.  I am concerned.
I miss our hide and seek game.
Where did you go?  
We haven't finished our game.

Suddenly! I feel safe and warm all over me, Like a warm blanket covering me on a cold day, A tickle on my cheek.

And

Then, hearing a calming voice whispering in my ear saying, “Love, take my hand come with me. Let's go dancing high amongst the clouds this day.”

“You will never be alone again...”


Copyright © Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.

Sometimes you pick a pair of fish and bread
and feed thousands, and at others
master flautist, make umbrellas of hills
protecting us from deluges of wrath.
I have walked to the lonely peaks where
stones have become animated bearing witness
to the nights of wonder, when you poured forth
your love, and drank of the poisoned chalice.
Yea, even by the well where burdened of sin
I sat down, and drank of the springs of Grace.
And I do not wish to hear anything,
but relive the awe seeing you speak,
as one with authority, passion of the heavens!

It were perhaps too good to preen,
This thing, this much elided stream,
To rest therewith, tremulous ream
Of thoughts forthwith from misery.

Let not the beggar hear my words:
There is no hope in timely dress;
World it cares not for men deferred
From caring press and relatives.
Too much it cares for common things,
A word said soft, need not for pain,
Yet broken in its gleaning thoughts,
Suff’ring not well deserved stains.

These things, I say, they cast a sea
Before dim eyes, make blind men cry,
Rob their sight, ev’n in sight’s drought;
This I say, casts little more t’me.