Thursday, November 29, 2007

Poetry Thursday - Praise Song

Praise the light of late November,
the thin sunlight that goes deep in the bones.
Praise the crows chattering in the oak trees;
though they are clothed in night, they do not
despair. Praise what little there's left:
the small boats of milkweed pods, husks, hulls,
shells, the architecture of trees. Praise the meadow
of dried weeds: yarrow, goldenrod, chicory,
the remains of summer. Praise the blue sky
that hasn't cracked. Praise the sun slipping down
behind the beechnuts, praise the quilt of leaves
that covers the grass: Scarlet Oak, Sweet Gum,
Sugar Maple. Though darkness gathers, praise our crazy
fallen world; it's all we have, and it's never enough.

Barbara Crooker (from Abalone Moon, Summer 2004)


Anonymous said...

Beautiful picture, love the colors. Very haunting with the poem.

Changes in the wind said...

Such unusual colors!

Anonymous said...

Hauntingly beautiful - both the picture and the poem

kate said...

That is a stunning photograph ... I love how the branches of the tree are outlined against the sky. The Abalone Moon is just beautiful.

Shelli said...

Love the poem! Photo too!

Suzanne said...

This is so beautiful. Thank you.


Lil said...

Cate, this is brilliant! I have decided to start a collection of moon images...and if you are offering this (for a monetary amount or a trade sorts), I would welcome it into my home! Please let me know at

peace & shakin' the tree,