Category: Nature

The Years, My Friend

Winter by Farhad
The Years, My Friend

The years, my friend, have not been kind
upon your marble face —

I hear the river songs
tinkle with the cymbals,
I see your eyes shrivel
like unpicked grapes on the vine,
your mouth a wounded cherry
pecked by restless robins.

Take my hand, my friend,
let us go to the calling fields
that blaze with diamonds
under the eternal skies,
to the orchards in the midst of winter,
where leafless branches stand dauntless
in the endless cold,
telling jubilant tales
in the blizzard of their days —

Hearken to the legends
of root, of bud, of sun,
and to the promise
(believe the promise)
that warmth and springtime
will return,
(they always return)
once again.

by D. G. Vachal © 2013, 2025

*** Photography by Farhad

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 emerald 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