Back to the Trees and the Butterflies

This morning, I read an article that made me happy. Published in The Guardian, the article states “Bondage is so last year. Publishers who spent much of the past year in search of the next Fifty Shades of Grey are now seeking to exploit another literary phenomenon: the British public’s seemingly unfettered desire for nature writing.”

Often, my poetry focuses on or touches, in some way, the wonders of the natural world. For example, here’s a link to a poem I posted a few days ago. In it, nature abounds. The poem is titled Ethics.

For me, nature possesses a magic that is essential in my writing, in my life. In it, all is possible. Beneath the real beauty of nature lies the imaginative beauty. Goblins don’t haunt our cities. They make their homes in the wood. Sprites don’t dart from window to street light; they fly from milkweed to daisy. Dragons don’t perch on skyscrapers; they rest on mountain tops.

In nature, all is possible. Look to it. Find something you’ve never had or perhaps once lost. It’s still waiting for you.


6 thoughts on “Back to the Trees and the Butterflies

  1. That’s a beautiful picture. Trees have such personality. Did you know if you listen to them rustle in the wind, each type of tree has their own sound? Or as The Fenixx Nest put it, their own song. I can lay at our cabin in the Unintah mountains and hear the difference between the Aspens and the Pines. And our Maple out front has a very deep voice like an Ent. Trees are my most favorite thing in the world.

    Liked by 1 person

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