Category: Poetry

I’m awed by the iridescent beauty of the smallest bees that pollinate them and by the antics of male carpenter bees, the zeppelins of the bee world, guarding their vibrant patch of sweetness. Except that I planted most of those flowers, I’m as irrelevant to these insects as I am to the stars I gape at on clear nights.

In the nano-second before I consciously register a sunset or spring’s first bleeding heart or the image in a favorite poem, there’s a visceral reaction that precedes my brain’s focusing.

  Karen Petersen – Four Poems For My Late Friend, Who I Knew For 52 Years Last night I...

It is the inner flame within, a rapport between me and my surroundings, a mellifluous word or whisper that regales my ears, a tactile thrill, a scent that lingers in my nostrils, the taste of success after so many disappointments, an equilibrium of wills.

We surprise ourselves discovering how much beauty is out there just waiting for us to notice and deem beautiful.