Season of Flying Things

my observations sitting outside as the sun sets

It is the season

of flying things

birds

wasps

cicadas

desert wrens chattering

doves softly singing

repetitive evening song

human voices call in the distance

doves settle into trees

quail families running in orderly lines

newly hatched life following elders

 

Tarantula Hawk

biggest of wasps

most painful of stings

buzz by my head

orange wings on metallic blue body

lands on fragrant Tenaza flowers

sip nectar

air thick and heavy

monsoon moisture building

I am insignificant here

 

Tiny lizards new to the world

run near my feet

smaller than my smallest finger

hovering hummingbirds

silent night hawks soar by

here the desert envelopes me

singing of community

welcoming

woodpecker talks to her children

perched on the edge of a Saguaro hole

I am no different that the tiny striped lizard

searching for sustenance among the fallen leaves

 

Bats arrive in the form of dark delightful butterflies

fluttering and circling overhead

Mesquite seed pods fall to the ground at my feet

offering food

is this a gift for me?

I give thanks to the tree

collect the seed pods

no other place gives so much

could it be that this place has accepted me?

I often witness food

falling from trees and cactus

for each gift I give thanks

I know that by receiving these gifts

I become part of the desert community

what can a human give to the land in return?

why didn't my ancestors teach me how to properly accept these gifts?

trees are teaching me instead

knowledge has not been lost only silenced

more pods fall from the tree

as if the tree is asking me to stay

I tell the tree that I will return

next lesson to be learned while sleeping under protective branches

below the tree where many birds sleep

Reviews

[Laughing-Bear]

My Dear Writing Friend,
Your poem reflects the truths we First Nations peoples have understood since the beginning of Deep Time or as some call it Way Back Time. Your wisdom and spirit is more First Nations than many First Nations peoples. One of our greatest leaders that believed in the truth of Deep Time, lessons found in nature, was Chief Yellow Lark, a Sioux Chief. In 1887 he prayed this prayer.

Oh Great Spirit
whose voice I here in the winds,
whose breath gives life to the world, hear me…
I come to you as one of your many children,
I am small and weak. I need your strength and wisdom.
May I walk in beauty.

Make my eyes behold the red and purple sunset.
Make my hands respect the things you have made,
and my ears sharp to hear your voice.
Make me wise so that I may know
the things you have taught your children,
the lessons you have written in every leaf and rock.

Make me strong, not to be superior to my brothers,
but to fight my greatest enemy-myself.
Make me ready to come to you with straight eyes
so that when life fades as the fading sunset
my spirit may come to you without shame.

This great man understood that lessons could be taught to us, these lessons were written in every leaf and rock. You poem ask, “What can a human give to the land in return”? The answer is in Chief Yellow Lark’s prayer. “Make my hands respect the things you have made”! Respect my friend is what you can give back to the land, and that my friend you already do. I shall call you from this time forth “Alleqaq Cakaar Eluciq”. This translates to Sister Respects Nature.

Blessings, Ggagga Nk’dlih or in English Laughing-Bear

[Ruth]

Everything has its place and you take nature by its heartbeat! I adore your work xx

[An owl on the moon]

This is like a collage of photographs that you breathe to life... all the enchanted imagery that the wilding world creates around us in movement and music. Beautiful and rich in the telling.

[Ladysue]

you words speak of life and gratitude. this is a wonderful read...

[Robin]

you describe the desert in terms that shatter the misconceptions of this landscape. you show that it is alive and that its gifts are available to those who are aware and sensitive to its spirit .

wonderfully written.

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

your beautifully woven descriptives take me there on all levels~

[Tina Kline]

A very peaceful and beautiful wild place you describe. The only thing that sounds scary to be is the Tarantula hawk/the biggest of wasps. But everything else sounds so wonderful. You did a wonderful job putting your experience into words. I really enjoyed this poem, seeing the dessert landscape through your eyes.

[emmajoy]

' Tarantula Hawk ~ biggest of wasps ~ most painful of stings ~ buzz by my head ~
orange wings on metallic blue body ~ lands on fragrant Tenaza flowers ~ sip nectar ~ air thick and heavy ~ monsoon moisture building ~ I am insignificant
here '

Your entire poem paints a picture that seems so rich, so alive, i long to see and experience its spacious feel, its life, its everything .. and yes, in a world like that a human being is absolutely insignificant, a mere spot waiting to disappear but needing to return time and time again.

There's longing as well as love and caring in your words .. i sense your need for your desert. A wonderful piece of writing.

[Nimbus Thread]

What a wondrous gift you have given this reader! You paint the scene of balance and life freely given by nature in such a loving and honouring way. How lucky we all can be if we only stop and take in natures offering as a partner not as an owner.

Enjoyed this moment: "I am no different than the tiny striped lizard

searching for sustenance among the fallen leaves."

I shall now go to sleep dreaming of this desert heaven.

Thank you for sharing this.