Archive for the ‘Saguaro Cactus’ Category
Sunset From Blackett’s Ridge Trail (10/11/11) — Image by kenne
I watched the sunset
nestle into the cactus’s embrace
while the shadows climbed
the flanks of the Catalinas.
The desert has little patience
for people in a hurry.
It asks only that you
sit still long enough
to notice what was already there.
Saguaro Sunrise In the Canyon -- Image by kenne
Sabino Canyon at sunrise, stripped to monochrome—
the saguaro becomes an old witness,
arms raised through a hundred dawns,
telling the mountains
that silence is enough.
Saguaro Sunrise — Image by kenne
Saguaro cactus at sunrise—
you say endurance,
beauty against all odds.
I see a drunk saint
full of needles
hoarding water like secrets.
The sun bleeds out behind it
without apology.
If there’s a lesson there,
it’s that even the harshest thing
knows how to bloom
when it has to.
— kenne
Saguaro Cactus Down By The Wash — Image by kenne
Gravity Prevails
This old saguaro bends,
arms too heavy for the trunk,
two pressed down to the ground
like crutches that keep it standing.
I know the feeling — knees gone,
back stiff in the mornings,
each step a small negotiation
with the earth below.
They say the cactus has lived
a hundred years, maybe two —
having seen men die younger,
and still it leans,
still it finds a way
to stay upright,
though gravity has claimed
every inch of it.
I used to think
I could resist—
work harder,
drink less,
walk farther,
but the cactus
tells me the truth:
sooner or later,
you bow down.
What matters
is how long you keep
your arms in the air,
catching light,
refusing to be silenced,
before the earth
pulls you all the way down.
— kenne
White-winged Dove Eating Saguaro Fruit — Image by kenne
White-Winged Dove Eating Saguaro Fruit
High on the arms of the old saguaro,
The white-winged dove sings softly, “Mañana.
Red fruit splits in the morning heat,
offering nectar, seeds, and sweets.
She dips her beak in ruby flesh,
desert silence holding fresh—
The hush of wings, rise of the sun,
the feast begins, the summer’s begun.
Cactus bloom to crimson rind,
a gift the dove was born to find.
Life in thorns, life in flight,
drawn to bloom by heat and light.
Sonoran Desert Landscape — Image by kenne
Primitive road winds,
etched through saguaros stillness—
cholla shadows stretch.
Saguaros In The Canyon — Image by kenne
Canyon walls echo—
saguaros stand, arms outstretched,
silent sentinels.
Saguaros — Image by kenne
Saguaros are the desert of picture books.
This is what a desert should be.
— kenne
Esperero Canyon Trail — Image by kenne
Esperero Canyon trail begins
in Sabino Canyon
winding through the
many giant saguaros
in the lower canyon
slowly going up
made possible
by trail switchbacks.
— kenne
Saguaro Sunrise — Image by kenne
In the morning sun
A tall cactus guardian
Shadows over me.
— kenne
White-winged Dove Eating Saguaro Fruit — Image by kenne
Nobody is around.
The desert is quiet,
so tell me, what’s
on your mind?
Use the words
to begin a poem.
— kenne
Curve-billed Thrasher — Image by kenne
For a while I could not remember some word
I was in need of,
and I was bereaved and said: where are you,
beloved friend?
— Mary Oliver
Saguaros In Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
“People trample over flowers, yet only to embrace a cactus.”
— James Joyce
Cactus Wren — Image by kenne
A cactus wren may spend time on top of a saguaro,
but they prefer the protection given by the cholla cactus.
Saguaro Touching The Sun — Image by kenne
“Never give up on a dream just because of the time it will take to accomplish it.
The time will pass anyway.”
— Earl Nightingale
