Tag: nature photography

Simultaneity

Poem & photo by Elizabeth
SIMULTANEITY


When you touch me—I am
breath rather than a woman breathing.
One thousand wings, a single beat,
split sky with summer rain.

Breath rather than breathing
fills the empty glass.
Split sky with summer rain
reveals horses carved in stone.

Fill the empty glass
with wine of roses, lilac, heather;
reveal horses carved in stone
but not hands that formed their symmetry.

With wine of roses, lilac, heather,
toast grass that fractures concrete blocks
but not hands that formed the symmetry
of streets concealing streams.

Toast grass that fractures concrete blocks
beside the woman reaching toward you;
on streets concealing streams
she begs for food, shelter beyond grasp.

There is a woman reaching toward you;
her face is old, possessions few,
as she begs for food, shelter beyond grasp,
and I see you, I see myself within her mask.

Her face is old, possessions few;
she came to laugh—she came to love,
and I see you, I see myself within her mask
reflecting how the earth breathes.

We came to laugh—we came to love;
one thousand wings, a single beat
reflecting how the earth breathes
when you touch me.

Thank you to the editors at Scribendi for first publishing this poem.

Forewarned

photo by Elizabeth
They are a heartless nation, that is certain. They have made some of their people servants — yes, slaves! 

We have never believed in keeping slaves, but it seems that the white people do! It is our belief that they painted their servants black a long time ago, to tell them from the rest — and now the slaves have children born to them of the same color! 

The greatest object of their lives seems to be to acquire possessions — to be rich. They desire to possess the whole world. For thirty years they tried to entice us to sell our land to them. Finally, their soldiers took it by force, and we have been driven away from our beautiful country. 

-Ohiyesa's uncle, Santee Sioux

Ohiyesa

Magic!

My favorite photographs have been unexpected: a double image, something I hadn’t seen when I took the shot, or a photo I didn’t intentionally take yet captured what I hadn’t seen.

photo by Elizabeth

The first shot is what I could see: a sun-drenched hiking trail with rocks and almost no vegetation. The washed out flower at the center of this shot is the same flower in the next, though it was hidden in plain sight till a fluke of light and perspective revealed its magnificence.

photo by Elizabeth

My only edit to the first photo was to reduce the light and slightly increase the definition so the vegetation in the center was visible. The second shot resulted a split second later due to an inadvertent twitch of my finger. I gasped when I saw the second photo, which is unedited, while the third photo is my edit of the second. For me the second shot is what makes photography magic!

photo by Elizabeth

If Bird

poem & photo by Elizabeth
IF BIRD

You would be my loon
calling long past light, 
my mourning dove, my
sweetest finch flashing
sun from black as night.

If my bird you were I’d
feed you nectar from my 
palm and plant thick trees
for you to rest and nest until
I could transform my arms
and hands to feathered limbs—
our hearts remade as song.

Thank you to the editors of The Tishman Review for first publishing this poem.

Longest Night

photo by Elizabeth

In many traditions, this long night marks the end of the solar year, the final day of increasing dark. Tomorrow our days will lengthen and a new year begins, not by calendar, but by the sun’s time.

Here’s to the cycles and the richness of dark, the silence of snow and opportunities to reflect, to sleep, and once more emerge into increasing light.

May this year bring peace, more love, more ease and safety for all. HAPPY SOLSTICE!

Explosion

EXPLOSION

Flash fiction and photo by Elizabeth

Days after the United Nations coalesced, she slivered out in almost as many pieces as she had cells. There were cells that had surrounded the embryo created before her lungs had forced its expulsion, cells that hurled with such force one could not imagine how hard they’d tried to make marriage work yet a lifetime isn’t just love and loyalty but also kismet, and sometimes everything that can go wrong lasts beyond endurance and without right. Some cells radiated forth like the kaleidoscope that made her laugh as a girl while others were sucked into dark stars, worm holes, the Horsehead Nebula…she’d always wanted to be a horse. Only two of her cells joined like team cyclists breaking wind for the other so they could reach the crescent’s pointy tip where they stayed to play with shadow and light along the impish moon thus fulfilling what she’d have chosen if not embodied. 

Thank you to the editors of Doorknobs and BodyPaint for first publishing “Explosion.”

Inception

poem & photo by Elizabeth

INCEPTION


She asks,
wants him 
to be the first. 
As if the other 
were a ripened peach,
easily bruised,
they time their movements
to the ancient 
pulse of 
hearts 
then
seas.

Sharp tears through
hidden flesh
steal her breath.
They stop,
begin again,
relentless clock counts towards curfew.

Soothed by his hot sweet breath,
she rests in his embrace—
linear time shifts to the relative distance
between innocence and experience—

she arches,
accepts whispers
fingers
lips
as he eases her through
surmountable pain.

Her chrysalis rips,
new life emerges:
    	the harsh sun
    	scent of clary sage
    	wings drying in a warm breeze.

Thank you to the editors of Hot Flashes: sexy little stories and poems for first publishing this poem.