walking through a cloud of grey
the beginning of a quiet day
I felt a tickle on my face
a soft caress, a moment’s grace
and smiled
as I was gently kissed
by the tender morning mist
tio stib
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in winter stillness
ancient aspens watch
a chickadee flitting past
feathered music
bouncing
over infinite blue
alone
atop the buried meadow
a man paused
turned
looked back at the trampled snow
the trail of footsteps
each print a shadowed testament
to sweat falling from his brow
all he could see was white
reflected memories in a sea of snow
light’s harsh truth
stinging weary eyes
a deep sigh
a gasp of icy air
a hesitation in the heartbeat of being
a smile
he chooses life
again
tio stib
2016, 2018, 2019
I’ve Never Felt alone
on countless journeys
off the maps
on trips of whim and circumstance
without a friend and miles from men
I’ve never felt alone
on stormy nights
and raucous seas
rivers wild and mountains free
near howling wolves
and singing stars
I’ve never felt alone
sitting by a sparking fire
aspens whispering in the breeze
morning mist outside the tent
no footprints
whichever way I went
I’ve never felt alone
there is a peace in wilderness
where souls can breathe in openness
midst meadow flowers and humming bees
the stillness of majestic trees
clouds that melt in azure skies
watchful eyes as I pass by
a world where love embraces me
a love beyond what words can be
when I’m torn by fear and loss
when smallness grabs my soul
the memories of my wilderness
comfort my heart
sometimes I’ve wondered
how this might be
to wander lone and absently
with no need for humanity
one thought keeps coming
back to me
in nature, I am home
tio stib
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a surprise lover
the cool breeze kisses my cheek
my body delights
in sunshine’s warm embrace
wavelets lap softly on the sand
the scent of seashore drifts into my nose
a fly buzzes by
birds surround me
chirping behind
squawking above
honking across the water
laughter approaches
raucous conversation
“good morning!”
“Good morning to you”
the footsteps fade
a blast of male perfume persists
I bite an apple
crisp
juicy
sour
my lips pucker
smile
immersed in a beautiful day
mind swimming in memories
a blind man on a bench
tio stib
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it’s a feeling
fleeting
flying off like a nervous bird
when my heart gets too close
yet memories whisper
and I wonder
what was it
that feeling
what was
home
I know I’ve felt it
the Onenes
of place
of people
of shared meals
and wild laughter
in silent awe
watching the moonrise from a porch
sliding up a far mountain
beaming shimmering light across a silent river
sparkling in enchanted eyes
I’ve felt it
in the garden
in the sweet scent of strawberries
picked by eager red fingers
wrapped in buzzing bees and flitting hummingbirds
in the joy of harvest
in the pleasure of shared
plenty
I’ve felt it
in warm murmurs around the fire
in the clink of glasses
in the evening glow of satisfaction
gained from sweating together
building a shared world
I’ve felt it
in smiles and greetings
in walking through community
in waves to passing friends
in bonds formed
by standing together
through tough times
I’ve felt it
in grief and solace
tears shared
remembering those lost
aching for those
forever gone
now I wander
the frontiers of being
soul seeking
heart hoping
to find home
again
tio stib
2016, 2017
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Tags: blind poet, blind writer, life journey, home, home again, friends, friendship, Nature
tio stib
2016, 2017
You might also enjoy: Two Rivers, A Friend Passes
Tags: blind poet, blind writer, life journey, home, home again, friends, friendship, Nature
in the muck of news’ day platitudes
I’ve lost my cheery attitude
midst hate and anger screamed and spewed
what happened to beatitudes
but past these ugly, mindless feuds
beyond behavior simply rude
there is another world that can be viewed
in Nature’s holy latitude
in this world outside our doors
flowers dance, birds sing, and oceans roar
a world that heeds not human news
where souls soar high on gratitude
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Tio Stib 2016
but the map says it’s here!
icicle creek
this is supposed to be icicle creek
I stared
at the cascading tumble of roasting rocks
what made you think icicles could exist in Hell’s Canyon?
but the map says…
maps say a lot of things
doesn’t mean you should trust them
no argument
after nine parched miles
10,000 anguished steps
past three dry gulches
the advertised water had not appeared
although, in fairness to the map
rattlesnake creek had partially lived up to it’s name
even weighted by a fifty pound pack
adrenalin had defied gravity
launching my ten foot leap
over the awakened, angry rattler
guess I should have filled more than one water bottle this morning
you think?
what’s the next creek called?
a drop of sweat splattered on the map
surprise
perfect
tio stib, 2016, from a thirsty memory
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