Some of the times
There are no words,
so let us just sit here in the silence.
Together in the silence we shall be.
Little thoughts by Athey Thompson
Art by Ida Rentoul Outhwaite
Little Monday Thoughts
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Tag Archives: Poems
Do You Wonder, Too?
Suspire: Word of The Day
The word of the day is “suspire“(15th century): to let out a deep sigh.
The verb suspire is considered obsolete today—we might only encounter it in poetry.
In Robert Frost’s poem “Sitting by a Bush in Broad Sunlight,” he wrote: “And from that one intake of fire / All creatures still warmly suspire.”
Not only is it a literary way to say “breathe,” but it also rhymes nicely with “fire.” The Latin root is spirare, “to breathe.”
Sometimes I sigh and sometimes I forget to breathe until I remember that I need to take a deep breath.
Info curated from https://www.vocabulary.com/dictionary/suspire
Miracles and Magic
Let’s go
To where the magic waits for us
Where our hopes, our dreams
Our wishes. Come true.
Athey Thompson
Yesterday was a magical day full of miracles.
In the garden, I looked up in a tree and saw two hawks mating! (I didn’t take any photos to protect their privacy.) Last night one of the wild baby bunnies was on the deck and scratched at the screen door like it wanted to come in the house (I didn’t open the door, but I was tempted), and the third miracle is that my adorable little vireos are once again nesting in a brand new bird house!
“And as to me, I know nothing else but miracles” — Walt Whitman
April’s Aspiration and Inspiration
This is what my heart dreams about in the deep of night.
Fairies dance in the moonlight
With hearts that shimmer bright
And wings that flutter softly
Making magic in the night”
~ Randi Kuhne
Credit to artist, image curated from Pinterest.
Sleeping in the Forest
The full moon and lunar eclipse again wreaked havoc with my sleep – I woke up several times seemingly for no reason, but I looked out the window and said “goodnight, moon“, as if I were in Margaret Wise Brown’s classic book where the bunny says goodnight to various objects and creatures before drifting off to sleep.
I thought the earth remembered me,
she took me back so tenderly,
arranging her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,
nothing between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths
among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night I heard the small kingdoms
breathing around me, the insects,
and the birds who do their work in the darkness.
All night I rose and fell, as if in water,
grappling with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better. –Mary Oliver
Cinderella by Frances Brundage
Do You See?
And, finally I see
There right in front of me
Waiting peacefully
Was a bright new day
A little poem written by Athey Thompson
Art curated from Pinterest
What’s Growing in the Garden
Mushrooms!
This is an indication of how much rain we’ve had in Southern California and just how soggy the garden is…and more rain is on the way.
Unidentified fungi appeared in the crevice of a split ficus trunk that was cut down a couple years ago because the roots were starting to come too close to the foundation.
I wanted to keep the stump instead of grinding it because I thought it was architecturally beautiful and now it’s decomposing exactly like I hoped it would.
These mushrooms are definitely not edible, right? They’re most likely poisonous and I’m certainly not going to find out one way or another. I’m not THAT curious or adventurous. Or dumb.
A day later, here’s how they morphed and darkened, plus it’s raining:
Fascinating!
I found a poem by Emily Dickinson about mushrooms…
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants –
At Evening, it is not
At Morning, in a Truffled Hut
It stop opon a Spot
As if it tarried always
And yet it’s whole Career
Is shorter than a Snake’s Delay –
And fleeter than a Tare –
’Tis Vegetation’s Juggler –
The Germ of Alibi –
Doth like a Bubble antedate
And like a Bubble, hie –
I feel as if the Grass was pleased
To have it intermit –
This surreptitious Scion
Of Summer’s circumspect.
Had Nature any supple Face
Or could she one contemn –
Had Nature an Apostate –
That Mushroom – it is Him!
Enchanted
In my dreams…
Those Enchanted places
Where the past shall always be
Where the past shall linger
Quietly, in the present.
Poem by Athey Thompson
Art by Lucy Campbell
Blue Sky | White Clouds
A hot blue day had budded into something.
I wasn’t ready. The white clouds rearing
Aside were dragging me in four directions.
I wasn’t ready.
I had no reverence.
I thought I could deny the consequence–
But it was too late for that. Sylvia Plath
Sunday sky. I looked up as jets flew by overhead, so I’m not sure what they are.
I wonder…
…if there’s a message in these clouds.
What do you think?
