Together we rise,
the bees and I;
they fill
the drowsy garden
with their resonance.
A patchwork of shadow
among green lungs transforms
into a smoky meadow
of seeding grass and flowers,
patches of shifting light bound together
by cobwebs and the hum of bees.
Kim M. Russell, 23rd July 2019

My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Movement, also linked to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Tuesday Platform
This Tuesday, Amaya is our host for Poetics. She tells us that, in the past month, she and her family moved for the fifth time in less than five years – and my husband and I are considering one more move after living in our current home for nineteen years!
She has shared amazing poems by Ruth Padel and Richard Wilbur as inspiration to consider movement among the population as a whole, or even just among ourselves and ask where are we going and where have we been, and what is the trajectory of our lives? We can also explore motion in an abstract way by using changing tempo in our poetry.
I like how the shifting light is bound together by cobwebs and the sound of bees.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Frank.
LikeLiked by 1 person
nice post…good share
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
I love that line as well Kim- it’s perfect. And I also love the term ‘drowsy garden’. It is like that in the mornings…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Linda!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The busy movement of bees in a garden is one of summer’s pleasures. Lovely scene-setting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cheers Jane!
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a perfect picture of a mid-summer field Kim. I have been in thst field many times — great write. My wife and I moved 4 years ago to be with our grandson. So glad we did – but at 72, may I NEVER move again. Good luck whatever your decision. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Rob. 😊
LikeLike
This is utterly gorgeous, Kim! ❤️ I love the image; “A patchwork of shadow among green lungs transforms,” it describes perfectly the shift between past and present events in a person’s life .. sort of like a flashback when we go down memory lane 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Sanaa. 😊❤
LikeLike
I love the double entendre of the title and how you made this space of nature come resurrect by focusing on the interdependence of all comprising the habitat. How beautiful to see progress as what happens when not one, not some, not most, but all are participating and thriving together.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m so happy you got the ambiguous title, Amaya, and the importance of interdependence.
LikeLike
I love this Kim. The bees expecially. I love how they hum and move back and forth from the hive to the flowers.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Apparently, women make the best bee keepers, or so I read recently. I’m just full of admiration for your hive-ability.
LikeLike
LOL. All the hive and bee keepers I have known in my life were men. My uncle inspired me to start keeping bees. When he died, a man bought them and transported them to a few miles from here. I like the thoughts that they are all of them sipping from the same flowers.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hurrah for interdependence; lots of nature references out here tonight. I worry about the bees, the trees, and the polar ice caps.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLike
Why do the butterflies swarm to the blooms?
They are following the bees. I surmise you, writer, are a Butterfly.
..
LikeLiked by 1 person
But not a social one, Jim!
LikeLike
I love the garden’s sounds specially the humming of the bees Kim. I specially love this line: green lungs transforms
into a smoky meadow
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Grace.
LikeLike
I like the idea of getting up with the bees… each going off to do their work!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, Dwight, I’m a fan of early morning shifts!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Those drowsy summer days…golden, humming. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
We had a humdinger of a storm and so much rain in the early hours, but you wouldn’t know it now, at 7.30, with sunshine and a deer in the garden!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Summer rains are sudden–there and then gone.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like the cohesiveness of your poem, both in concept and ecology. Never thought of plants as green lungs before and think it is marvelous.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jade.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I feel like I know your “place” – your writing is so rooted in place. I can’t imagine you moving! Love this piece, love that drowsy summer buzzing…
LikeLiked by 1 person
But you should see the details for the place I’ve found, Sarah! On the way back from their new house, Ellen and Steve drove me through the most quintessential village, where there is a two bedroom cottage for sale, just within our price range. Back down south is the plan!.
LikeLike
Wow! But good to be closer to Ellen…especially now. How exciting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The last two lines are so beautiful…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Rajani!
LikeLike
Yes, I love those final two lines, Kim. Perfect ending to a buzzin’ poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Lynn!
LikeLike
I love everything about this poem, especially how it pays attention to the details others might miss on any other day.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kerry!
LikeLike
I love the gentleness of the movement through this Kim, especially how the bees ‘fill the drowsy garden
with their resonance’ xxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Xenia! xxx
LikeLiked by 1 person
How mesmerizing! In awe of this bit: “A patchwork of shadow/among green lungs transforms/into a smoky meadow”. This is such a magical space and it makes me want to keep on looking at it till I remember the image.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Anmol!
LikeLike
I love the knitting of light by cobwebs and bee hum. I felt I was in the garden with you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Susie. I’m looking at it now in the growing morning sunlight. It’s so lush and green.
LikeLike
I like this, and the idea of taking a shift. I also like/respect bees. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Crystal!
LikeLike