Category: Nature

April’s Sapling in August

April’s Sapling in August

April’s sapling
arising from the fragrance
of damp spring earth,
tiny buds unfurl like infant fingers,
release the first soft leaves,
chartreuse
as songbirds return,
perch
upon scrawny shoulders —

lengthening days drift with tides,
clouds of egrets in flight,
dawn dewdrops
ephemeral
upon blades of grass —

quickly comes August:
the sapling’s girth thickens,
networks of roots proliferate,
dig deep
like earthworms into warm soil,
arms broaden from twigs to branches
as thrushes thread through the canopy,
warble with the rustle of emerald leaves,
golden harp melodies
in the cooling breezes.


D. G. Vachal © 2025



Image by Jonathan Billinger @Wikimedia Commons

Nature’s Chase

Nature’s Chase

In the ivory warmth of summer
while frogs croak among the lily pads
and rustling leaves make harp-like music,
two squirrels scamper in a sprint
one behind the other:

scurrying sounds, a tangled mass of fur,
a frenzied steeple chase
across freshly mown grass,
then up the leaf-laden tree branches
and down again,
vanish into the swampy woods —

In the utmost heat of summer’s day
while orange-winged cicadas buzz and whine
and nikko blue hydrangeas droop from drought,
two swallows break forth in ecstatic flight
one behind the other:

chirps and gurgles, a tangled mass of feathers,
ferris wheels in the air
as they traverse gabled roofs,
alight leaf-laden tree branches
and up again,
vanish into the azure sky —

Have you witnessed nature’s chase?

There is a time
for playful pursuit,
a time
for slowing down,
to gaze into each other’s eyes,
walk hand in hand,
vanish
into the emerald forest.

D. G. Vachal © 2025

Image by Flo222 @pixabay

I Must Go to the Fields Again

I Must Go to the Fields Again

I must go to the fields again,
the verdant sea of grass,
the dazzling blaze
of a million wildflowers —

I return from a journey
of innumerable seasons,
my heart is parched from the frost
of manifold winters —

I must go to the fields again
there will I shed the tears
withheld
by silent sorrows,
release the laughter
of irrepressible joys.

I must go to the fields again —
I must go back home.

D. G. Vachal © 2025

Image by Irma Web @pixabay


Love Haiku 31:33

Love Haiku 31:33

31

asleep beside me
peaceful as a joyful lamb
songs of jade meadow

32

moonbeams and starlight
white petals turn lavender
your voice calls my name

33

spring tide and neap tide
the ocean breathes with the moon
your heart beats with mine

D. G. Vachal © 2025

Image by Philip Graves @ Unsplash

End of February

Aspen trees of rural Toten by Balke, Norway, in January 2025.

End of February

delicate brush strokes,
embroidery of deer
mouse tracks,
red fox paw prints
melt in the snow —

music
in the white silence,
aspen trees
trembling in the wind
put on flesh and sinew —

long have I shivered
in the cold,
long have I huddled
by the fire —

I only know
the long-awaited promise
draws near.






D. G. Vachal © 2025

Image by Oyvind Holmstad @ Wikimedia Commons https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Pilegrimskulturlandskap_21.jpg