Opal Reflections
Perspectives through Prose, Poetry and Photography
Sky-shades
We oft survey the unknown way before us,
And all too often paths we chose, we rue,
When well within our reach is new perspective,
Look up, survey in black and white the truth.
Golden Gallery
Rather than wax poetic about the drama and warmth of golden-hued photography, I present, instead, a gallery of miscellaneous archived photos that speak for themselves.
Photo Friday: Golden
Golden Globe
It was dusk on the breezy Cape May coast, as we returned to the B and B parking lot for our bags. Despite the hint of a brewing storm in the air, I paused to admire the curved simplicity of the weathered stanchion, it’s wrought curved frame protecting the golden globe within; as a firefly might be contained in a child’s mason jar.
Camofoliaged
As limbs rise skyward, ever seeking light,
One stands in awe at Mother Nature’s shears,
Though likened to a bonsai, man-made sight,
Intrinsic beauty crafted through the years.
Yet deep beneath the foliage, hid from fear,
Some denizens depending to subsist,
Within a secret robin’s nest, are heirs,
Precariously nestled hatchlings in the mist.
And glancing to more critters, co-existing
on sinewed branches, highways in the trees,
A chipmunk scurries southward toward the grist,
Hung suet-feeder swaying in the breeze.
The lesson is to pause for longer glance
at foliage lush, for nature’s fine nuance.
Unblemished
Opening her face toward the sun,
Where yesterday ‘t was just burgeoning bloom,
As if by special order from the One,
She heeds the call, to banish trace of gloom.
Taintless as a newborn from the womb,
Each silken petal shares the sheltered core,
A touch or slight disturbance could mean doom,
Could mar the blushing blossom evermore.
I muse upon this studied metaphor
for life, when moments fleeting might have changed,
If brash exuberance was kept in store,
And rash decisions better left constrained.
Yea ‘t is a simple lily, pure and white,
And I’m an awestruck witness to the sight.
Industrial Beauty
This photo was taken from behind the window of a moving bus, having just emerged on the Manhatten side of the Lincoln Tunnel. The stark contrast between the darkness and claustrophobic feeling of the tunnel with the bright, shimmering, sheer window-wall, reaching to the sky was breathtaking; exaggerated by the reflected puffy-clouded blue of the autumn sky.
Photographers know too well that the search of the perfect subject is often trumped by a fleeting, unanticipated moment, captured with an iPhone.
Photo Friday: Industrial
Still Waters
Far deep beneath the clear, blue surface-gleam,
I’ve only just begun to delve below
the calm and glassy mirror of this stream,
Perhaps I fear what vision quest may show.
So often thought to be a sign of growth,
Of wisdom, neath a superficial wit,
Still, I’m bereft of all is there to know,
Perhaps the stillness masks a deficit.
Is hidden depth an instrument to cheat,
or blessing to all sailors on the sea;
A noble trait or weapon to defeat?
It matters not for “shallow” floats debris.
Midst yin and yang, still waters oft run deep,
Serene, ‘neath calm demeanor, I shall keep.
Just around the bend…
Just around the bend, you’ve journeyed, out of sight,
Just around the bend, I’ll follow, when it’s right,
Just o’er the rising hill, your essence leaves a trace,
Just o’er the rising hill, you’ve reached a sacred place.
Down the road apiece (I’m only steps away),
Down the road apiece you wait, but I must stay,
Just around the bend, each day I make my way,
Just around the bend, we’ll smile again one day.
Elusive Clarity
Regret-free, never looking in through the rear-
view mirror, second guessing “Was it right?”
We strive to make our way, our choices clear,
We strive to calm the soul through darkest nights.
But mornings (e’en when nearly within sight)
Too often seem eternities away,
Though just before the dawn, seen outline bright
of distant peaks, before break of day.
Decisions loom, despite the risks, we pray,
Yet nothing’s black and white, or as it seems,
Our plotted course so often leads astray,
Without our knowing, we’re swept swift downstream.
Subliminally, we choose the forest or the trees,
’til rainbows from the mist bring clarity.
🌈
This photo is an example of unintended consequences. I set out to capture a sparkling mountain lake (Mohonk Lake, NY) as the long morning rays lent a luminescent quality to the misty, morning vista. It was only after viewing the photo, that I realized that I’d captured an ephemeral rainbow. So often in life we focus on the wrong things, distracted by the shiny object; until suddenly, clarity emerges, when we least expect it.
Photo Friday: Clarity
Eileen’s Lullaby
Today I came upon a weathered item,
While sorting through mementos from the past,
A single, tiny photo of my sister,
Young mom with babe in arms, old times now flashed.
She, standing by a screen, the sunlight filtering
in, to rest upon her tiny child,
I can almost hear her song of comfort,
Can almost feel her rhythmic rocking, mild.
So many days and years our lives unfolded,
With happiness and grief along the way,
Each mountain climbed, each valley soft descended,
Preparing her for what she bears today.
I breathe a silent prayer, she’ll face these fears,
Though I can’t stop my soft-escaping tears.
Mirrored Contrast
Mountain water, sparkling stillness gleaming, all alone,
Towering evergreens embrace a hidden forest lake,
Cloud-brushed, wispy skies becoming backdropped throne,
Each awesome, pure, unique; all worthy subjects make.
But impact more than sky blue, forest green, or waters deep,
Dark ‘gainst light, depths and height, intensify the scene.
Photo 101; Day 20. Triumph and contrast.
Every element in this scene is worthy of being the subject or focus of the photograph; the lake itself, the wispy sky, floating petals, and the stunning tree line. However, when seen as a whole, in a striking, mirrored reflection, the impact is intensified because of the contrast; dark vs. light, depth vs. height, brilliant blue, vs. dark green. Were it not for the floating petals in the foreground atop the reflection of a dark cloud, one might assume this result to have been a trick of photo editing. But no…this is as it was when I took the picture.
Whispering
Evocative as canvas recreation,
Sweep as only nature’s brush can etch,
Hued in earthen shadings and striations,
Textured granules fine and soft impressed.
Balmy San Juan waters; flowing, ebbing,
Returning and returning yet again
to sweetly leave a kiss upon the shore,
Rhythmic yin and yang, yet never end.
No gaily flowering blooms need I to listen,
Though I am gladdened by the signs of spring,
I hear the wavelets at my feet, they beckon:
“Come and follow me” (they’re whispering) !
Photo 101: Day Nineteen: Double & Rotation
“Today’s Tip: Sometimes, you might wish an image were oriented differently — maybe you want a vertically-focused image to be horizontal…”
Lighthouse in the Mist, Cape May, NJ
Bandit
Festive View from the Pub, Peddler’s Village – Lahaska, PA.
Home Sweet Home
Opal Reflections 