a rose and a bee

a rose and a bee
not unlike you and me
in our sweet symbiosis
the hint of heaven scent

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© 2014, poem and photographs, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved

our wildness on the mirror of time

Jacaranda mimosifolia

Jacaranda mimosifolia

no mendacity in the natural world ~ just an
untamed grace in the meditative industry of ants,
in the peaceable company of small creatures
going about the business of food finding
and mating and homemaking in the loam of
this province, the republic of innocence

here is the soul-filling beauty of sun rising over
jacaranda as she paints her joy on a blue dawn;
robin with her russet-hued breast hunts for worms,
her instinctive motherhood proud of babies
 in
the spar and scrap of nest life . . .  it is in this -
the uncivil cosmos – that the gentle breezes

dance with us on our mud-caked travels along
ripening pathways through meadow and brush;
as the flaxen sun shifts from rise to fall,
our hearts beat with their ribbons of ruby life,
pulsing with ebbs and flows of love and fear ~
soon - we know -  clouds will gray with the

inevitable dark and shivered moon will show
her craggy depths, sooty with doubt and danger,
our earthiness projecting its own shadows;
still we trust nature’s homilies, content in this
province where we’re left to be ourselves, left to
write our own wildness on the mirror of time

How near to good is what is wild.” Henry David Thoreau

Today is Writers’ Fourth Wednesday. Please feel free to link in a work of yours for this event sponsored by The Bardo Group and hosted by Victoria C. Slotto. Details are HERE. Your participation would be most welcome

© 2013, poem and photograph, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved

I Remember You and the Amber Moon.

file3761333734081When I remember you
I remember the amber moon
and the burnished brown of old oaks,
their leaves like hands waving goodbye
Summertime, as dusk transitioned to dark,
we’d sit on the beach by slow cooking-fires,
their coals gone from hard black to gray dust
I cherished your warm hug in the chill of the night
and falling asleep, safe

I stopped loving you,
but I never stopped loving the memory of you
I carry that with me on lunatic trips of the heart ~
though my preference is to rest solitary on forest logs
with their stunning imperfections and
the secret-lives swirling in the sunless damp on which they rest

I think of the path that led from then to now,
a mix of smooth and rough along a rocky coast ~
I live near the sea to breathe
I imagine you living, wherever you are -
by an ocean with your skin still smelling of Old Spice,
with your well-formed hands, the hands of a pianist and surgeon,
and the high-tensile strength of your mind

In the odd geography of life, no one knows where we came from
or how it was, how it felt to be us in the days of promise
when the spell of Hudson Bay fell like a prayer to St. Christopher
That bay is no longer our safe harbor,
but it gave us our sturdy roots and strong wings
and so the nights, the nights by this bay are good
When I smile at the amber moon, it smiles at you

Some may remember this poem, which I wrote a little over a year ago. I’ve just now put the finishing touches on it. I’ve been sorting through old poems – in some cases – totally rewriting them. That’s my project this spring and summer, when I have time for it. Thanks for reading …

© 2013, poem, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved, 
Photo credit ~ Anne Lowe, Public Domain Pictures.net

leaping greenly spirits and a blue true dream of sky

photo-4i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

e.e. cummings

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When yet another camera went the way of all things and my eight-year-old flip-phone followed, I decided this is the time to transition to a smart phone. I’m past due and multipurpose tools always appeal. Smart phones are certainty that.

I took these photographs with an iPhone 5c. It’s not surprising that it has a better camera than the Moto G I tried out the week before last. (Photo samples in earlier posts.) The iPhone 5c is a keeper, though clearly I have much to learn about using it as a camera, not to mention much to learn about photography. These are views of the neighborhood and the park, which is so beautiful it puts me right in the spirit of e. e. cummings’ poem above.

© 2014, photographs, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved

the bold fulvous latitude of moonlight

their small multi-complected faces line the walk
like the progress of pilgrims along the Camino,
earnest faces turned toward the sun, smiling …
in the rain they toss Gregorian chant on the wind,
their music, their soulful peace rising from rich earth
to soften the brittle longitudes of the human heart,
pressing on into the bold fulvous latitude of moonlight

California Poppies

California Poppies

© 2014, poem and photograph, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved; photo taken with a Moto G