Afternoon of the Locusts

Lone oak in the early morning, summer sun. See this tree in different seasons.

In an afternoon of locust sound
the red-tailed hawk alights upon a
broad and sturdy walnut tree, all grown
alone in meadow gold, turning in a blueness
that swirls tree and hunter equally into the vast
approaching night of moon-lace light, a star-spun
flight of rare delight beyond the ken of color, keener
than an insect’s teeth upon the arbor’s leaves, while
supple greening vines wind mindlessly around each
other for dear life, extending life for sake of life,
unconcerned their flowers at the dawn of day
may serve as morning meals for preying
locusts munching, perching fat upon
the branches of a tree with roots in
that same soil which anchors it
below a sky that knows no
right or wrong, no life,
no death, no other.


About Bob OHearn

My name is Bob O'Hearn, and I live with my Beloved Mate, Mazie, in the foothills of the Northern California Sierra Nevada Mountains. I have a number of blog sites you may enjoy: Photo Gallery: Essays on the Conscious Process: Compiled Poetry and Prosetry: Verses and ramblings on life as it is: Verses and Variations on the Investigation of Mind Nature: Verses on the Play of Consciousness: Poetic Fiction, Fable, Fantabulation: Poems of the Mountain Hermit: Love Poems from The Book of Yes: Autobiographical Fragments, Memories, Stories, and Tall Tales: Ancient and modern spiritual texts, creatively refreshed: Writings from selected Western Mystics, Classic and Modern: Wisdom of a Spirit Guide: Thank You!
This entry was posted in Mystic Poetry, Nonduality and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Afternoon of the Locusts

  1. rahkyt says:

    Each word and phrase a Masterpiece.

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