A Collaborative Poem by CCJ Autumn 2020
Two gangly bougainvillea branches arch right and left
like fountain water sprays
as a third gently taps on the south-facing window.
The birds in multiple shapes, sizes, and plumage
scramble to eat all the pine nuts they can gather.
The sky’s a perfect shade of blue dotted with wisps of dainty white clouds,
the air crisp with a chill, the trees stand in their glory.
A long stretch of conifers grows from rock flashed with bronzing white birch.
Light blue water, breeze making ripples,
the sky’s light blue with a scrim of white cloud
Sunlight filters through the leaves as the wind rustles through them,
displays a moving mosaic of golds and rusts and greens
The garden hose stretches across the browning lawn,
beyond the withered garden,
meant to replenish the moisture in the compost pile
Yellow leaves drip from the dark branches
against the cloud-streaked sky.
Fall’s radiance fades toward winter.
Sections of trees sprawl
from a parking lot next to the hospital.
Concrete.
Leaves dance in the breeze,
catching the moss in their dance.
The breeze sings through the leaves.
I spy that old potted Rubber Tree from the dining room window.
Silhouetted smooth ovoid leaves
gnarled and thriving like its original owner.
We agreed to care for it when he moved back East 30 years ago.
He’s returned now, but not for his plant.
It remains the first thing I see looking out towards the front porch.
A maple tree is already naked showing its winter figure.
Its neighbor, a maple is still half-dressed in golden yellow and blazing orange.
The miniature mast-like trellis looking bold
as the spent jasmine continues to twirl in the wind
Thousands of miniature raindrops fall from the sky,
on the land, on the road, on the green pine tree, upon the head of a squirrel
The fine lawn is now a blanket of yellow and gold elm leaves,
that hung on until the frost/freeze gave them pause.
Summer is ushered out, fall takes its place on the stage–
brisk, tinged in red and orange, burning in one last riot of color.
Midst the brittle stalks of coneflower and remnants
of bedraggled sunflowers blooms a mound of coral pink stonecrop
and a sprinkle of purple gentians
Reminders that the flowering season is not quite over.
A crimson maple leaf has fallen into the withered foliage.
A welcome trio of color — yellow, dark red, and purple.
Jitterbug. Tango. Samba.
A trio of butterflies
Two blue swallowtails fluttering around
the frothing golden powdery pollen-laden dance floors
of Maximillian and Bush sunflower fields.
One majestic orange and black
stained-glass winged,
migrating monarch lands.
Every inhale I take, it seems their wings unfurl and pause;
I sit in awe in this prairie space.
One breath. One step. One delight.
The miracles of the common as seen from our windows.
——-
We write collaborative poems throughout each CCJ season. I offer a prompt and anyone who wants to contribute writes a few words or a few sentences, then I compile everyone’s words into a single poem. It’s lots of fun to see how everyone’s words come together. This is just one of the poetry practices that pop up in Contemplative Creatives Journey — here’s the offer if you’d like to check out the other creative practices we explore. We begin again on September 22, 2021.
About Bo Mackison
