there is magic in the air
electrical and elusive
like a razor thin damsel’s wing
all is quiet in the inner mind
perfect conditions
to welcome and learn the
universal language of appreciation
what can’t be found here
that doesn’t exist above or beyond
whether beneath the frost
or high above the treetops
where angels still sing
december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
with earth day fast approaching
how cannot images of
cosmic collisions cross my mind
planets spinning
dramatically out of control
elsewhere within the milky way
astrologically speaking
the local gods continue
to reconsider scientific law
the orion arm their local playground
occasionally bringing
mother nature to her knees
april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there is light coming through
the clearing of the trees
signaling a harbinger of some sort
worthy of pursuing
nearby river flows slowly
as local stream remains silent
life forces beneath the surface
struggling to be noticed
diving deeper into the woods
a peacefulness transpires
while high above the treeline
raptors survey the surroundings
stealthily tracking your every footfall
february two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I left the city for fields of goldenrod
painted by many artists over the years
fresh in my mind for reasons I cannot explain
if I had stayed I’d surely be dead by now
having fallen to the atrocious ills of society
either by murder or apparent suicide
I am far from home but closer to reality
like the shepherd is to his flock
like a mother to her newborn
september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
out of thin air shallow breaths are born
giving life where there was once none
providing comfort to those who grieve
to those whose lives are in desperate
need of meaningful nurturing
burial grounds of once mighty empires
have long expired and recycled into
fields of grasses and wildflowers
articulated masterpieces of complexion
breathing quietly and free from harm
may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved
unfinished tabletop
wishbone resting on windowsill
dishes in the sink
roses abloom on the vine
outside kitchen window
nature’s fragrance floating
scattered thoughts
pieced together like a dream
disguised as poetry
april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
time zones and seasonal patterns
have forced my hand to reassess my
opinion of life as we know it
images in my mind continually evolve
from tulip to azalea to lemon tree
those hummingbirds feasting on
oswego tea blossoms were once
damselflies during the dinosaur days
moon chases sun like dog after tail
eventually tiring into submission
clashes in the past reconstruct the future
stirring and remixing and reimagining
painting skies like never before seen
april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
opposition forces positioned themselves
in the most peculiar way
so much so nobody seemed to notice
exactly who they were
or what they were doing
last fall foot soldiers were ordered to plant
thousands of tulip bulbs in the minefields
but not all that went in came back alive
and the ones who did rested uncomfortably
for the rest of their lives
by the time spring solstice arrived
the enemy had mysteriously withdrawn
and all the local children awakened with smiles
welcoming the newly risen sun
proceeding to run cautiously
through her once glorious meadows
april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
one day I awaken to darkness
next night into the light
how many times I’ve been born
depends upon many factors
such as number of hours in a day
or air temperature at ten or
twenty or thirty thousand feet
wind seems to be the great constancy
bringing about change to a troubled planet
mother nature’s secret ingredient
constantly turning inside her earthen pot
creating recycled challenges
and unlocking old doors
no matter how strong the desire
to stay grounded
just remember even on the
calmest days and nights
sailing vessels never truly stand still
march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
you dig stones out of the earth
as if they are potatoes
stuffing them into a sack
once filled you sling them
over your shoulder
make the short trek
down to nearby stream
children of all ages follow you
along the way
one by one
and two by two they get in line
some holding hands
some chatting and some not
all fully aware what’s
inside the burlap
once at the water’s edge
all becomes quiet except
for the stream itself
speaking a language you
have learned to accept over time
the children watch in silence
as you fall to your knees
dipping and cleaning
and handing out
one stone after another
february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
bluegrass nature trail
brings back ancient memories
sometimes green and
sometimes slightly snow-covered
always surrounded by
black-capped chickadees
zip-lining happily between oak trees
chatting noisily and
encouraging all to follow
skyscraper shadows
stretching all the way back
to prehistoric wetlands
february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
squarish hole in middle of garden
is walled with various sizes of
rectangular-shaped stones
stones once used as steps leading
to abandoned gazebo atop the hill
but now separating earth from fire
sparrows and wrens tend to garden
while cardinals and jays perch in pines
all unafraid of smoldering hole
as long as night is far
patio blocks geometrically encase
black hole in summer garden
introducing spiral pathways
transgressing divergently in circular fashion
exposing and unfolding new life
suspended in color and contrasting light
november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
know this day will come and you will
live in peace
be mindful of everything around you
and you will find peace within yourself
there is comfort within the forest of your soul
where trees grow tall and all the animals
on this earth live in harmony
you are the root and the tree and the leaf
the fruit that grows bright and fades
only to return season after season
you are mindful of all things around you
and you protect them when they need protecting
and comfort them when they are lonely
be in love with the morning sun
the noonday sun
and the setting sun
come to know the moon and you will know
yourself better than anyone
and by doing so
will come to understand there is a need
for all things living
there is peace in this day
just as there is peace in all the days that follow
november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
november monsters hide behind october bushes
their passive aggressive breathing giving rise
to a once low lying morning fog
there is passion beyond the hills
if you can ever get past progressive barriers
whether physically constructed or simply imagined
shallow heartbeats gradually acquire momentum
approaching like a lackadaisical thunderstorm
clapping along a spacious prairie
of course you’ve been here before
countless times either in this world or the next
perhaps ages ago when monsters could be trusted
october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
heavy is the rain falling on disquieted river
awakened from a disturbing dream
troubling and bone-chilling
springing forth afterburning energy
recycled into virgin snow
gently blanketing mountaintops
september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
bitter creek flows through quiet earth
shaping butterflies and recycling tales of
rivers carving out new tomorrows
peyote blossoms flourish on the border
desert beauties dispensing spiritual guidance
sometimes influenced by bitter creek
old-school artisans steal from night sky
charting reflections onto banks of bitter creek
exposing black cats and neon damselflies
this place comes and goes as she pleases
tricking and mimicking and repeatedly born again
september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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