What does the spider know of beauty?
When soft morning light spills over
The horizon and illuminates his
Intricate, dew-laden construction,
Is he even able to perceive
The beauty of his creation?
Likewise, when we scurry about
In our “ordinary” human lives,
Are we creating something
Beautiful that we can’t perceive,
But is, perhaps, on full display
To any being of a higher order?
–Photo by me
–photos by me
the fog is
lifting o’er the lake,
yet lingers
in the trees–
soon it all will dissipate
with the slightest breeze
–photo by me
in the wilderness
the swan and his lifemate get
their own private pond
–photo by me
now, a thing of dread:
a dark omen overhead–
the crow comes calling!
or is the bird just distressed
because i’m close to her nest?
–photo by me
when mining ended in the pit,
a path was made encircling it,
and near the path, a fence was strung,
and soon all kinds of plant life hung…
…upon the wire, all around–
now, even wild hops are found;
there are berries, plums, and apples, too–
all hanging there for me and you!
–photos by me
–Photos by me
O little yellow bird,
The things you must’ve heard
While flitting ’round
Our little town–
And how you spread the word!
–Photo by me
–photos by me
the bee is my brother
we’re one family
the wind is my sister
she calls out to me
the earth is my mother
i sprang from her womb
the sky is my father
he makes mother bloom
–photo by aaron
michaeljordahl 