Voice of the Trees

Oh to capture Nature’s eternal grandeur.

Alright… I’m cheating; this is neither prose nor poetry and I didn’t compose it. But beauty inspires me and Traubeck’s music— created by playing cross-sections of different species of trees on a “record player”— is absolutely beautiful. My favorite’s Oak.

Bartholomäus Traubeck’s Music


Nature’s Overture

Behold— the greatest show on Earth!

Every symphony starts with silence.


Then, with a faint tap, a drop of the dew, a heartbeat—

Daffodil murmurs speckle the spring breeze,

carried by papaya sunsets and falsetto bees

through the clarion call of summer with the

sweltering heat and bass bellows of long mornings

and short evenings within nature’s living sound.

Scarcely a blink has passed before the musicians

rearrange themselves for the spectacular scarlet

melody of falling leaves that flutter and trill

like birds and like flutes over the bubbling of streams.

Then moonlight-caressed whispers take the stage

as the ice queen bounds and leaps with the

uniqueness of snowflakes in her hands; she does not sing

of human things and mortality, her night-kissed fur face

stretches the seven seas and ends in heaven,

where the snow is warm to the touch.


And thus progresses the first movement

of the greatest symphony known to man

and, by God, the show is free.


Lake Reflections

Thank God for cotton candy skies.

My phone has a remarkable habit: taking grainy pictures of beautiful things.

Tread softly by the waters,

All who dare to enter

There’s a city in the shadows

Of the lake


Hush, hush, footfalls of mine

The clouds are sleeping tight

In their watery bed



Kneeling at the shore,

Skimming fingers over blue,

Baptism of the mind

Paradise in lieu


As I watch the ripples spread

I feel the hope arise

That I dream of crystal waters

And cotton candy skies



Waltz of the Mountains

This poem was written from Artist’s Point- 7,600 feet in the air!

Once upon a time, far far away, a Girl gazed down the slope at midday….

The trees became women donning green dresses,

To the tune of the wind- how they danced!

Sunlight filtered through their emerald tresses,

Upon a mountain masquerade had She chanced.

And as the Girl watched in quaint human wonder

The winding river joined in the song,

In the distance she heard rolling thunder

Or had it been there all along?

The primeval blue snake reared its head up and hissed

Its voice brought back memories unmade

Things she had never yet seen she now missed

As she watched the glimmering fade.

Flowery kisses blown by ladies of pine,

Petals drifting through crags of old,

Don’t worry, they sang her, sundown is still fine-

With every night a new story be told.

And so the Girl knew she had fallen in love

With rivers low and mountains steep,

Her eyes twinkled like the stars above

Smiling long after the sun went to sleep.

One by one, the soft padding of paws

Were assigned quiet, night-kissed fur faces

As her eyes traced their bright eyes to their jaws

They stole away to hidden places

Alas, night in nature is not the one that man knows,

For not dead is it, but very alive!

And this is the night that our little Girl chose,

So that her spirit may truly thrive.

For it is the night that gives, never takes,

That falls vast over fields and fountains.

And come the next day when the sun again wakes-

The eternal waltz of the mountains.