there are transitional moments, spaces filled with
wildfire and earthquake and avalanche, yet wilderness
speaks more of the sun pouring his heart out in dapples
and of the paced stew of the ever-changing seasons,
the promise of rough paths alongside the lives of trees,
the lonely lakes that mirror endless sky-play, and always
those smart birds hitching free rides on thermal columns

how cherish-able is the insouciance of the backcountry, prized
for its medicinal value, for its stringy-barked eucalyptus and
frizzy moss, for its innocence in tossing up and carving out
the weathered mountains, the rugged expanse of palisades,
the high-principled stone obelisks rising from frothing seas;
Oh! how treasured is the untrammeled earth, the wilderness ~

so reverent in its prayers, its songs of praise, soaring
tower-like, a marvel of primordial cathedrals spinning
past the cruciferous hallmark of hawk against the blue and
cloud-bedecked sky; ageless, these untamed places are
rock-solid sanity and tree anchored, feeding those who sit
one with them, who own the wilderness essence from the heart’s
unbroken core, finding their own soul as incorruptible as stone

“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity” John Muir, Our National Parks

© 2014, poem, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved; the photograph of Big Sur is in the public domain


This week’s prompt is short and sweet. How does wild nature make you feel at the very core of your being? Tell us in prose, poem or even photography. If you feel comfortable, leave your work below or, if it’s too long or it’s photography, leave a link to it that we might all enjoy.  Your work will be featured here at The Poet by Day next Tuesday.

THE WORDPLAY SHOP: books, tools and supplies for poets, writers and readers

We continue with the current recommended read: On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century by Timothy Snyder. Left, right or center – American or not – it’s a must read.

LESSON FOURTEEN, Establish a Private Life:  “Nastier rulers will use what they know about yu to push you around. scrub your computer of malware on a regular basis. Remember that email is skywriting. Consider using alternative forms of the internet, or simply using it less.  Have personal exchanges in person. For the same reason, resolve any legal trouble.  Tyrants seek the hook on which to hang you.  Try not to have hooks.” Prof. Snyder,  On Tyranny, Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century


  1. Thanks Jamie. Here is my response for the challenge.


    i cannot live through
    stagnant water,
    i need oxygene
    to survive this life,

    to swim in clear
    utter glory,
    natures sweetest potion,
    float among lilied notions

    and live readily.

    rancid pools a bitter
    marriage make,
    yellow scum upriver,
    comes down reminding
    sleepless nights
    and half remembering.

    running water or amnesia?


    Liked by 1 person

  2. just how is it

    that you suddenly feel an urge
    to reach for pen & notebook
    to record some Great Thought?

    some itch of the brain –
    grumble of neurons:
    the remembering of rolling a little ball of snow
    around a winter lawn till it becomes
    impossible to manage the times
    when you looked up at the night sky
    to locate Orion’s Belt

    Niord’s horn sounding
    over all the bent forest winds
    to come to this place here & now
    where the river flows in & out
    all day & night

    moment for picking up
    the thread of things once more
    making a knot in time

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Love your poem. Love the prompt. I’m going to write to this one. My “wild nature” is close by because I no longer hike and is precious. I’m lucky to live on an Island in Puget Sound. I’m also listening in to “my wild nature”—that inner self that has wildness, is wild—what do I mean, want to say? May you encounter wild nature today, Jamie. This came at exactly the right moment. Peace be with you, Lisa

    Sent from my iPhone


    Liked by 1 person

  4. Here is my submission, Jamie:

    As I Dive

    I make the world.
    Become young and lithe.

    Turn from bird
    to fish, from fish

    to a water’s swerve
    I am feathered water,

    dots and dashes curve
    in ash black and flame white

    rippled negative sunlight
    ribbons over

    sleek and sheen,
    I swallow pike, perch,

    trout, and bass.
    An underwater ember.

    I clamber on shore
    as lumpen land.

    I put on years.
    My paddles in the wrong

    place. They waddle my weight,
    a loon. I give birth

    clumsily, mumble
    a tremolo, yodel,

    wail, and hoot
    across the waters,


    Let Me Dive Quick White

    turbulent eddies,
    preen copious oil,

    wild silver flows easily
    over streamlined
    strong legs and feet

    pinion rocks under and above.

    All black, but for a white bib:
    a dinner suit with white

    serviette draped from the collar,
    dine fresh meat river.

    Don’t give me stillness:
    stagnant, silent, dead.

    Give me bright, loud, lively lilt
    so muscle winged and flaps over

    closed nostrils, eyelids feather
    submerge, strong short bill

    tumbles pebbles, sorts meat course

    momentum immerses
    into maelstrom,

    barely make wake,

    splash in flight,
    Rock jump

    float on belly,
    wings spread like oars.



    Paul Brookes


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