Tag Archive: wildlife poem

Where now?



Where now the dark-circling


Wolves?  Where the half-haunting


Moon?  Where the swift paws running?


Where now the mists


That rose above the lake


In the early spring?


Are the spirits all flown to that far country


Beyond the black hills of night


The hills of indigo?


Where butterflies flicker


In bright mythic




Where the great raven


Smiles in her cosmic




And ruffles her feathers in the cool air


Scattering stars across the open sea below?


Written around 2009

© Sharon St Joan

Photo: Rackam | Dreamstime.com


By the wave of the waters



Across the shambled ruins

Of empire,

The wild winds

Of innocence,

Shift the sands

Of bitter bones

And the fragments

Of forgotten footprints.

There by the wave

Of the waters of the great

Sea, the barn owl,

Who, of yore,


The falling

Stars, flits in moth-dreamed


From cliff to cave

In the silvered night

Where the stands

Of singing pines


The bright


Of the moon, whose cowl

Of fire


In the time before


From the mist-cloaked

Hill of haunting



© Sharon St Joan 2013, written around 2001


Photo: © Robert King | Dreamstime.






Heron of grace, blue buffoon


Of elegance


Stretching his endless


Wings over the moon


Wading on spider toes


Through still






Among glass reeds


That glitter in a radiance


Of emerald beads,


Beyond the hill


The world dips


Under lace of lavender


Into the ringed smoke of cities,


Fallen and gone,


While, in opalescent flight,


The heron slips


Upwards through the windows


Of many lilies


Into the open night


Of the rain-winged dawn.


Written around 1998


Photo: Great blue heron. Photo by Gary Kramer, USFWS / “If an image on one of our sites is not restricted and does not say it is copyrighted, then you can assume it is in the public domain.” – USFWS

The Gulls

Written around 2007

Written around 2007


From within


The immortal




Of the lily


Arise the mists in


Which the cathedral


Of bright








All the winters


Of destiny,


Though the tall firs


List against the bone-


White hill,




The call of the moon invite


The wind-footed wolves to


Return across the night


Over the hinterlands


Of circled ice


Across the crevasse


And the mountain


To the peace of the timeless dawn.



Written in 2008


Photo: © Alexfiodorov | Dreamstime.com









Written around 2008




When the tiger puts his paw into

The rising

Pool of mist by the riverbank,

Then will

The cry

Of all

The worlds be stilled,

While clouds

Of moons dance solemnly

In pale shrouds.

What wild lands have they killed

Now, those hapless hurlers of spears,


Of cities, and sellers

Of strange, stolen fears,

They who haven’t an eye

That can see?

Yet they too

Live at the behest

Of the mud-churning

Floods that fall

Fast on the dry



Is this mythic tiger

Who so gladly drank

Up time and eternity,



In the wide water?

Is it time to be done

Now, to follow

Him into the sky-blue


Land, to be gone,

Like the vanishing one,

Into the cavernous west

Where the great stones that hallow

The ground,

Shine gray in the singing


Where the black paws of the night run

On the rock, with no sound,

Where the winds ever go

Like white-toed moths, wafting

Among the gold cactus of the dawn?

Painting and poem by Sharon St Joan. To see a larger view of the painting, click here.

The howl of the wind

Pin up your soul


And sell it too

In the devil’s sale

For a hatful of dollars.

Isn’t that what you’re doing?

And does your soul bleed

Like the trophy

You pinned

Up on the bounty string

While the desert grew


Wrapped in the pale

Skeleton of the night?

A tale half-told,

Withered on the vine.

Did you kill the moon too?

It looks white

And all dead hung out up there in the sky

To dry

Where the pine


Rattles in the old


And the howl

Of the wind.

And the tatter-faced owl

Is watching,

Still watching

From the luminous cliffs, caped all in shadows,

Bending over to read

The bones of her toes.

A lost bell might toll

While she waits for the world to fold

Up into the far, silver sea

Of whales and sails, and coral shale

That will sing once again

In the bright


Deeper and blue.

March 12, 2012


Photo: © Dgareri / Dreamstime.com / A coyote


Brave Swan