The Artistic Poetic Depths of Gran Cañón

National Landmark, Grand Canyon

Layered bands of red rock that look like an ancient sculpted village left my mind swimming in awe after our trip to the Grand Canyon National Park in Arizona. Who would think that after my visit well over a decade, the memories from that day are as spiritually charged now as it was on the day we visited.

Gran Cañón

Riding to get through the desert plain
watching heaps of sagebrush rolling along with the wind
traveling to see one of the spectacular marvels of the world
arriving at the vast South Rim of the Grand Canyon.

An awe-inspiring vista of one of the natural wonders of the world
great gorge of the mighty Colorado River
multicolored rocks from geometric erosion
a geological sequence of trails

the sun’s glow casts contrasting hues
painting the great gorge
from subtropical to subarctic
from every compass rim to the basin

ancient pueblos line lower walls
the Havasupai’s, people of the blue-green water
still occupy the majestic region
captivating, enchanting, powerful
a breathtaking panorama leaving you speechless
from the peak of the mighty Grand Canyon.

©2013 Wings of the Wind: A Cornucopia of Poetry


Look to the Sky


When I find myself feeling down and in despair, I either step outside or look out of my window, then allow my eyes to pan upward and breathe. There is something mysteriously wonderful, resonant and placid about looking up towards the sky and realizing that even if everything around me is in disarray, for this moment, I am okay.

I opened the blinds to my bay-window a couple of days ago and from each angle of the window, the sky looked different. The right end window showed nothing but stormy dark gray clouds. As I walked to the center window I saw gray clouds mixed with white clouds against a Carolina blue sky. My curiosity led me to walk over to the last window and there was a wisp of gray clouds floating among fluffy white clouds, against a beautiful blue backdrop.

Sky, Meditation

As I steady my gaze and think about it, I ask if the sky truly changes or is it a resolute universal canvas? I wonder if the lens of our perspective is zeroing in on transitions like the earth’s rotation, seasonal changes, the sun and moon’s movement, and the clouds drifting between the sky and us, atmospherically teaching us new lessons? The variations of clouds I saw from my window were circumstances, remnants moving away as a rainstorm just past through. Behold, the sun began peaking through in all of its brilliance.

Sky, Universe

All I know is the sky is a portrait that is ever-evolving within my emotionally charged spirit. No special effects needed. That is the type of peace that surpasses my understanding. Some things are seen and felt, and cannot offer an explanation. Sometimes the feeling becomes the explanation.

Sky, Nature

Nature, Sky

Meditation, Sky

Meditation, Sky

Sky, Universe

Sky, Nature, Tranquility

Sky, Universe, Moon

Sky, Rainbow

*Photos courtesy of and found in public domain.

Weather I Write or Not

Snowing, Snow Showers, Winter Weather

No doubt I, like other writers pull out our pens and keyboards and seek a nostalgic moment of clarity in the presence of atmospheric climate pattern changes. Yesterday morning I watched powdered sugar coated snowflakes whisper to leafless branches of oaks and maples while stroking the long slender needles of pines, and landing silently on any surface that welcomed its presence.

Is there a brilliance of creativity dancing in the nucleus of observation, a brilliance that forces us to stop, listen and look to where the depths of spiritual discovery lies in the genius of weather-related silence? And how do our moods change and our heart rate intensify when the ferociousness of wind, rain and snow strike violently like a bold slap on the face when such gentleness turn to brutal storms?

For now, I marvel at this scene of falling flakes as I’ve witnessed many times before as if this is the first time. I never tire of moments like this when I stare at showers of flakes disappearing in a flush of gentle kisses on top of the lake. I would be remiss not to say thank you God for the opportunity to show my gratitude in a moment like this, “weather” I write or not.

The Birds Are Alive with the Sound of Music

Winter, Birds, Snow

Image credit: JB Stran

There’s no doubt that these arctic cold temperatures many of us have been experiencing over the past several weeks aren’t leaving us in that jubilant spirit we saw Julie Andrews portraying as she sang “The Sound of Music.” Nope, I think it is safe to say that we are far too busy focusing on how to stay warm.

Birds, Winter

This morning, I opened the blinds to my windows and looked outside at the small lake glistening through a chorus of leafless trees behind our house and wah-lah, it is still very frozen. I saw a representation of sights and heard some all too familiar welcoming sounds I would typically see and hear during the Spring and Summer months. The sweet singing of a few birds, one primarily belting out some tweets on my deck, was flowing like hot maple syrup over a stack of flapjacks. I also noticed the rapid flapping wings of Bluejays, Cardinals, and Carolina Wrens flying to and fro among the barren trees. How delightful!

Winter, Birds

Image credit: JB Stran

I am always amazed by nature’s adaptation and resilience to whatever climate change or weather pattern we are experiencing. While celebrating the gift of life these birds through their communication of singing and living independently, remind me this morning that whatever external occurrences want to weigh you down with despair, anxiousness or sorrow, your attitude and approach to life in spite of these external conditions, will leave you content, and you’ll be singing your personal song of gratitude, no matter what!

Birds, Winter

Image Credit: Petr Kratochvil

Winter, Birds

Image credit: Vera Kratochvil

Winter, Ducks

Image Credit: Cristie Guevara

Rainy Days May Slow Me Down, but Never Get Me Down

Rain, Rainy Day

In 1971, The Carpenters (American vocal duo with brother and sister, Richard and Karen Carpenter) released the song Rainy Days and Mondays. Although this was such a sad song, it became one of their number one hits. Typically, people dread the rain and expect the worst to always happen when it does. What if we look at a rainy day and become energized from it, just at a different level than we do when the sun is out?

As I write this post, it is pouring down rain outside. I have fallen in love with the spiritual qualities of a rainy day because it makes me slow down and reflect on the sight and sounds of the rain. I let it fluidly speak to me as it thumps on the rooftop or tap dances vicariously on leaves. I have learned to look at the adversities that sprout in my life and try to focus on gaining energy from them instead of letting those challenges drain the energy from me, in the same manner that I gain peace and spiritual renewal by experiencing a rainy day. How does a rainy day make you feel?

Rainy Days, Rain

Poetry of the Day: Flight of the Frigid

Frozen River, Ice, Winter

Image credit: Larisa Koshkina

Baby, it’s cold outside! Bone-chilling temperatures are sweeping across the nation. The southern, and Mid-Atlantic coastal regions of the USA are being slapped with some treacherous arctic, below freezing temperatures and precipitation. Yowser!

There is a small lake behind our house that has been frozen all week. The ice looks like a sheet of glass from where I stand and I admire it from afar. I am still amazed by the survival skills of the birds and squirrels amid the frigidity out there. As I gaze at the ice, I am reminded of this poem I wrote, Flight of the Frigid, which was included in my 2013 collection of poetry. Stay warm Y’all!

Flight of the Frigid

Blue Heron canvasses ice-laden waters
a blanket of crystallization
searching for an opening to fish for his morning’s cuisine
with legs as thin as reed grass

a slow and calculated stride
stalking its aquatic target
enduring bitter cold temperatures
not affecting this bird of prey

adaptation for species born to know
such bone-chilling, glacial conditions
where necessity is the mother of invention
and survival is the father of determination.

Poetry for the Day: Autumn Wanes to Winter

Autumn, Fall, Leaves Falling, Poetry

Typically, by this time of the year, all of the leaves from the trees would have fallen, blanketing the ground with warmth. Interestingly, this year has been unseasonably warm throughout the Fall season and we still have some leaves left on our trees. As the winter season approaches this week, we begin saying so long to the last remnants of Autumn 2017.

Autumn Wanes to Winter

To everything there is a season, so we wait
in the wand of autumns unfurling show
its spectacular brilliance of colors transform
bursting forth with the cycle of change

it wanes into the looming lips of winter
falling leaves cascade like crystal snowflakes
branches once dense now a skeleton of delay
where the tree neither dies nor falters

but it rests for the new journey ahead
an unseen formation of energy kindling within
as the soul of the tree kisses each cycle of life
amid the chill it waits, transforms, and flourishes.

© Kym Gordon Moore