In the Divine Arms of Unfolding Earth

A medley of poems* by Gene Bianchi, selected and lightly edited by Bob Ambrose for his Celebration of Life

Is my kitchen window a glimpse into the other side?

At dawn a rare red fox appeared on the path below 

to lead me into dark conifers at the far edge.

Now it's the red-tinted chest of a hawk 

sitting still as a Buddha, 

soaking up divine rays

on a branch almost arm range, 

like cat Tony behind me

fast asleep in a patch of sun, 

both in contact with the source.

I watch an oak leaf float by 

still red, yellow and green, 

drifting to its final rest, 

waving its colors 

as it accepts a career in mulch

to build its new arbor home.

Nature is powerful 

but doesn't demand dominance.

Her cycle is simple and complex 

dancing from life to death to life.

In the beauty along my driveway

I sense a penetrating oneness,

immersed in a cosmic divine, 

closer than dolphins to their ocean

and flowers to their roots.

We are unfolding earth 

now and forever.

In blessed instants I see a peaceable kingdom, 

all seekers eating and drinking from the source, 

and under it, a quiet convergence. 

In silent unity, spirit moves in and out, 

and draws me smiling into the stream of now.

With Brother Francis I see the divine 

in every molecule of the cosmos –

sun, moon, stars, even in dust 

returning to dust as sacred, 

in death as destiny within our temporal run.

Now the reflection of a barred owl 

skims the water, moaning 

like a wounded herald 

announcing my own return apace, 

ashes to waves in the ocean of beginnings.

Here on another Ash Wednesday, 

I feel cat Max purring on my lap, 

see first hyacinths blooming, 

and sense the world's renewal.

Take heart, my friends – 

brothers, sisters, strangers, beloved – 

our common resting place 

is in good hands.

• Stanzas selected from “The Hum of it All – Poems from a Personal Journey.” Poems include “Red Hawk Teaches Meditation,” “Oak Leaves and a Puzzled Deer,” “Bringing Earth to Heaven,” “An Inward Olympics,” “The Oconee is Agitated,” and “Death as Destiny not Defeat.” 

Gene Bianchi, photographed by Penny Noah:

Yangtze Blues

Updated from original posted in 2012.

Deep in the highlands of Hubei 

wild torrents cut through gorges

carved in mists so long ago. 

Today the tamed river languishes 

caught behind a concrete slab until

released 

                to wander ancient river plains 

        stretching out on black earth flats 

    below the rolling orange groves        

        past cotton patches 

            flooded paddies 

                down through lands 

                        of grit and coal 

                            by tollway roads 

                        to concrete rows 

                    in cities of ten million

                        souls – new centers

                            that were built 

                                    to sparkle, broker 

                                            fortunes, beckon

                                        dreams and draw

                                    beleaguered masses 

                                forward, soar 

                                    into a gray-brown 

                                            skyscape, lined 

                                                with cranes 

                                                    and belching stacks 

                                                    that stitch the land 

                                                  and sky with smog 

                                                sealing earth 

                                            beneath the load 

                                        of human progress. 

                                    So the modern world goes 

                              as Gaia sighs and sets her gaze 

                        to wait upon a wiser world

                of sages and keepers who care 

        for her creatures in ages of Edens to come.