The Day And I Poem by Joyce A Halvorsen

This day and I, we have new discoveries to make, a journey to take
I've come north where violets, purple and blue draw my senses awake
Wildflowers-honesty and crocus line roads with tiny bachelor buttons
Petals of lupine peek o're grassy blades alive from winter's gloom

Tall Norway pines and crooked ancient Oaks are a lush shade
For trails of white trillium, mushroom rings and blackberry glades
I begin my morning walk-these steps are not new-I know the way well
Deer tracks smooth down dirt roads; butterfies caress the meadow

How many times I've visited these trees, the river and forest
Yet there is a difference today in every shade, current and bird chorus
I seek bouquets of pink pitcher plants and yellow flag iris as a memory
I brush by golden yarrow and day lilies, their heads bend in the breeze

A red spider is busy in its silver web, spinning its thread like a loom
And I wonder what prey it will find; its rooms are a lacy cocoon
I am curious of the spider's home and bed
How far will its silken net spread?

The meadow is alive with the sweet business of honey bees
Attracted to soft blossoms of wild cherry and apple trees
Green moss covers our house laden with last year's fallen leaves
Noisy chipmunks gather acorns while an oriole song lilts in the breeze

A fawn and doe surprise my morning meditation
They stop as if they too are caught unaware at their station
Then-flags up-they dart quickly into deep thick forest walls
Where they remain hidden; in their world I feel so small

I am a guest here in the woods up north
Where days and nights are guided by a primal force
I respect nature's subtle moments and awesome lessons
The sunrise gives a portion of the day its glory; the sunset its essence

A wisp of a rose colored cloud is stretched thin as knitter's lace
The sun's mirrored reflection sweeps over the river's quiet face
Along the shoreline drip shrubs of honeysuckle and buds of willow trees
Aged maples have their time-branches layered with new born leaves

In the air an eagle soars above the white pines-he owns the sky-
A woodpecker works the dead birch with a 'rat-a-tat-tat' in its cry
Into a bay otters glide to seek fish; schools of fish collect mayflies
Time in the north is presented to those who are hungry for its delights

Delicious scents of wild mint mix with blooms of sweet lilac trees
In the morning I sip a steaming cup of chicory coffee
I am warmed and as a cool breeze brushes over me, I shiver
A reminder, it's time to clear the shore, check the boat and fish the river

Soon shadows of sleep become lost behind gray clouds of night
I awaken to peach and yellow dawns, its hues are a healing light
Sunrise raises its curtain, it's only a beginning, wet with promise
There is work to be done, but I will rest for a moment in the sun

I watch the river drift by the worn wooden pier and consider this place
My canoe rocks in the current, its oars old, warped and misplaced
But I have a respite, a quiet fulfillment, a stillness made all my own
I have the blessings of a whole week here, a journey I've taken alone

My north dreams are mine to own as I drift to other places, other times
I take these memories home as precious photos in my mind
I am an observer of nature's best; here there is no right or wrong
I listen and watch as spring offers its new delights and songs

For I know it won't be long
Before the day and I move on.