in tall pine gloom
October’s filtering sun
forms pools fathoms down

Behold the Moon

There’s a movement in Tai-Chi called ‘Behold the Moon.’ You slowly turn your torso and extend both arms sideways at an angle of 45% with lower hand palm upwards and upper hand palm downwards. This morning, as I did Tai-Chi on the lawn, I turned to the left, pointing straight at the rising sun filtering through some trees. Slowly turning to the right I pointed to a half moon filtering through a morning mist. Behold the moon!

my barefoot contact
with tide-washed virgin sands:
a lasting imprint

And, for a change, a fuller length poem rather than a haiku:

Grey Wolf Haunting

Echoing down the centuries
Hear the last wolf’s lonely call.
Emptied land grey wolf haunting.
Out of balance and unwhole,
Emptied land grey wolf wanting.

In these mountains, moors and glens,
At the margins, at the edge,
Demonized and killed,
Grey wolf, the hunter hunted,
Was so cruelly banished.

Amidst ash and birch which match
Flecked coat flits wolf’s spirit.
In brindled mountain flanks where
Mists ghost towards grazing deer
Lies a story yet unfinished.

Wolf lives on in keening winds,
Rolling hills like loping run,
Deer-cropped plants but seldom seen –
Glimpse the shadow of a dream,
Aching absence of the vanished.

Grey wolf pads through our psyche,
The hunger, the gnawing need
For contact with otherness,
For wilderness and wildness
And nature replenished.

Echoing down the centuries
Hear the last wolf’s lonely call.
Emptied land grey wolf haunting.
Out of balance and unwhole,
Emptied land grey wolf wanting.