To Listen to the Sounds of Nature
To Listen to the Sounds of Nature
Isha
(Sounds)
Sit for needed rest
whether on rock or old log
close eyes open ears.
Click of Cicada
Hummingbird hums while in flight
crack of woodpecker.
Things that move on Earth
surrender to their noises
recreate this song.
Pad of mammal foot
crunches mulch on forest floor
a song birds love song.
So man’s foot treads miles,
these inhabitants know this,
their created space.
When ears truly hear
the movement of the termites
in log where one sits.
Listen to Crickets
a melodic symphony
here on wooded path.
Devas
(Sounds)
To hear loud breathing
of deer with noses to ground
familiar smells.
The sounds of squirrel
as they horde nuts for winter
to sing working songs.
A breeze moves Aspen
A periodic rustle
one can hear winds path.
Struggle to hear more,
beyond the Deer, beyond Bear,
continuation.
These forest soundscapes
a harmony of raindrops
onto matted leaf.
Hear tongue stir a pool
before one hears the drinking,
the twitch of a tail.
Long silences between
very stimulating sound
here in our stillness.
Matarisvan
(Sounds)
To contain these sounds
within the movement of breath
into rested thought.
Chorus of birdcall
from heavenly instruments
high in canopy.
An old tree’s limb breaks
a loud crash follows the fall
forward onto the floor.
Water not so far
moving around on some rocks
preparing for fall.
“Isha” whisper mice
as they scurry with a slight
tickle of the ear.
This Cacophony
becomes troubled unity
when one moves a foot.
To disturb pattern
with an out of place loud step
heard beyond the hill.
Knowledge
(Sounds)
Followed by silence
a moment when the world stops
songs seldom broken.
Mile to finish walk
before the evening sun sets
leaving only darkness.
A new set of sounds
will pierce the dark of the night
in all minor keys.
Again music plays
a life shares it’s own language
symphony of wild.
We will be away
when the commotion restarts
within our safe homes.
Reading Robert Frost
trying to hear our own sounds
our own poetry.
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Very nicely penned Haiku, Jamie. It brought back memories of camping in the Pacific Northwest when I was a kid – while the rest of family slept, my Dad and I would sit out by the campfire and listen to the sounds of Nature. I enjoyed reading this post.
A lovely write, Jamie, filled with imagery as to our awareness and nature’s offerings. A poet without the gift of awareness is like a truck with no wheels, as our senses give us and understanding of what’s around us. The poets heart then finds the beauty in it all and that comes out through our renderings. Lovely work my friend.
Thank you Phyllis and Tony. Jamie
Wonderful haiku giving a glimpse of nature through your wonderful imagery. I enjoyed this Jamie.