Soul Awakening

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Poems about Nature & Animals
by Alison Stormwolf

 

I have had a passion for nature all my life.. animals, trees, crystals, the moon and stars... yes the beauty of nature in the whole manifested universe is a source of constant joy to me.

Mother Nature speaks very profoundly to those who are prepared to open themselves to the subtle voice of the Spirit. We are all interlinked on the web of life - Macrocosm, Microcosm ... As Above, So Below . Yes our bodies are made of stardust.   How wonderful!


Note: Please do not take and use any of my poetry without prior permission and linking instructions.

 

The Crows

The crows are silent tonight
Sitting in dark silhouette in the branches
I look out at the slate grey sky and my spirit rises
How can anyone without any money have my riches?
For my crows are usually there at the important times
Dawn and dusk….just as their nature
Crow medicine talks of the carrier
The messenger between worlds
The spirit traveller in bird form
Such mumbo jumbo you may say
Who of an intelligent mind would believe you say?
But my friends are all around me at those special times
Their black bodies en masse make me feel secure and loved

I do not know where they go at night
Their branches are bare and await their arrival
I only know that with the first rays of my new day
My crow brothers are there sitting in the branches, observing. Waiting
So I get my coffee and sit back down to look at those dark messengers of night
And without any obvious signal, they soar up from the trees squawking
My guardians have gone to where the crows go
And my day has begun.


© Alison Stormwolf

 

On Being Youg And The Gifts Of Such

How sad you did not know me then
When dreams were easy
And nothing was impossible
Seen through my eyes

I could make the heavens smile
I manufactured the first fall of snow
Always on a Sunday
So we could all enjoy it
Did you never guess?

I held magic in my arms
I made exquisite portals
through sprouted tree stumps
All you had to do was walk through
How easy is that?
How wonderful is that?

The long pine needles of the Scots Pine
Were used to fan Cleopatra
The Yew berries held dark charms
Laburnums to me were the gifts of life
Appreciated, used wisely, always respected
For the blossoms that intoxicate you with their beauty
Will be your undo-ing should you eat their seeds

The Horse Chestnut was my hero
Strong, dependable, and ostentatious in his splendour
How could you ever not love him?
He tempted me every autumn with his treasure...
In his branches I was safe and secure

The cherry tree that stealthy bitch!
Pretending all year to be 'oh so demure'
Then in April exposing herself as the showgirl she is
Who can look at her and doubt a higher power?
Never me...

Nature has been my wet nurse
Then my infant guardian
She has guided me through childhood
With her willing participants
she has given me Mother Moon
to listen to my adolescent ramblings
to be my teenage counsellor.

Holly grows in green splendour
All year around transfixes
those with eyes to see
To appreciate her dark leaves
and contrasting bright red berries
she protects those in her environment

Ivy, that inconspicuous crawler
With her otherworldly ways
Creeps as you sleep,
she is a dark creature
With a mission to fulfil
Not good nor bad she spreads in stealth
Especially over derelict buildings, old houses
Yes, nature / God will never forsake you
Just because you cease to thrive

The Maple delights us
In her total extravagance of foliage
Such a drama queen she has to be seen in spring
Recognisable by her shameless orgasm of green
Then, never to be out done,
Her explosion of orange and yellow
transfixes our eyes
in Autumn

Should anyone ever ask me?
That silly question
"What do you mean when you say
The trees speak to you
Have their own personality?"

What can I say?


© Alison Stormwolf

 

Belonging

Went to my outbuildings
To fetch some wood
And the crows
were in the high branches
Four of their magpie cousins flew past
The cows across the road ignored me

Sometimes
I take in my washing
Under a sky so jewelled
I feel I have already died
And gone to heaven
Or leave my curtains open
So mother moon can
Gift me

In windy weather
The trees make such a commotion
Like it’s all new to them
Silly gossip
The older ones
Stay silent

And yet
People still ask
Are you not lonely?
Are you not scared?

Why?
I am in the very
Heart
of my family.


© Alison Stormwolf

 

White Laced Scotland

When the snow is thick on the branches
And ground iced like a cake
In the country time slips away
Centuries become redundant
Nature rules in all her splendour
And honesty

No blight on the horizon
Deep joy in the witness
I am lost in beauty
Of branches like Spanish lace
And the tables are suddenly turned
I am the intruder

Who can blame the inner city kids?
Used to concrete and man’s excess
Losing their way
Let then come to the trees

The standing people
Will educate them...


© Alison Stormwolf

 

 

Grounding

I yearn for pebbles on the beach
Each telling me their tale of
Endless wearing away by incessant waves
So they become more rounded
Lose their sharp edges

Display their colours more fully
Deeply connected
To those stratas
Where they were formed over millennia
Rising like providence to be shaped

I am half alive
And need smoothing off
And smelling them
They are authentic and real
Oh God
I thirst
For that.


© Alison Stormwolf

 

Beauty and Death

He is with me every day
That stupid bird
The pheasant
I love him
Stand back in his beauty

Almost having a death wish
But seeing a new colouring
He wakes me every morning
My dawn chorus
Is beneath my window

So I see him on the road
Magnificent
In feathered beauty
Kamikazi birds
Given wings
Which can hardly fly
Surely there is a lesson in all he is
To us?


© Alison Stormwolf

 

 

Sex and Plants

I always looked at a cherry tree in full blossom
And wondered how anyone can possibly not believe in God
In what ever form you take him / her to be?
Divinity has no boundaries
Enlightened people know that.
All exist in a fragile composition
Of both sexes

To be totally balanced we need to embrace
The opposite of our birth
Inwardly

Nothing to do with that often superficial pastime...
Sex is so misunderstood
So denuded of its true spirituality
So belittled due to its frequency

The most erotic pictures I ever saw
Were viewed this morning
In the botanical gardens in Edinburgh

Pictures of plants in full aroused colour
Exposing themselves in the most blatant way
Yes petals opened and nectar flowing
Some chance pollinator will fall to her attractions
Meanwhile the male exposes himself erect and ready

Such beauty
Such humbling to the cynical soul
Is to be found in nature

Next time you pass a rose unfolding
Maybe view our connection in a whole new way?
See a woman in her true glory
Or turn away immune
To what is all around us.


© Alison Stormwolf

 


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and may not be reprinted without explicit written permission.
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please email Alison for prior permission. See Terms of Use.