Archive for the ‘Sonoran Desert’ Tag
Cedar Waxwings Sharing Berries — Image by kenne
They pass a berry
beak to beak, politely,
as if time allows this.
— kenne
Good Morning from Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
The day begins
not with noise
but with attention.
Sabino Canyon opens its hands,
and the light settles in—
a blessing
that asks only
to be noticed.
— kenne
Seed Pod Releasing Seeds To the Wind — Image by kenne
When it is finished,
the pod remains—
curved, hollow, precise.
Proof that purpose
does not require permanence.
— kenne
Death Happens — Image by kenne
Death happens
the way rain does—
announced by no one,
soaking the afternoon
until even the living
forget when it began.
— kenne
“Cactus Face” — Image by kenne
Walking past,
I swear it whispered—
not in words
but in that way
a crooked mouth of bark and thorn
can suggest a whole conversation.
I nodded,
pretending I understood.
— kenne
Monsoon Rain Clouds as Soon from Our Patio (August) — Image by kenne
Across the wide expanse, the sky darkens,
not with threat but with blessing.
The desert tilts its face upward,
ready to drink the slow blue thunder
of monsoon rain.
— kenne
Exploding Seedpod on the DeAnza Trail — Image by kenne
Exploding Seedpod — De Anza Trail
Dry wind—
the pod cracks,
a small thunder of life.
Seeds scatter
into dust and sunlight—
each one a prayer
the earth will remember.
— kenne
Desert Mystic by kenne
The desert teaches by absence. Beneath the old olive tree, the stones rise into a small architecture of intention. Their balance is temporary, but what isn’t? Wind moves through the leaves like an old story. Somewhere nearby, a lizard watches, unbothered by the human need to make order from dust.
Desert Noir by kenne
black sky—
sepia arms
lifted
in a dry
hallelujah.
Desert Existential Moment — Image by kenne
Thinking is the fever we mistake for health.
We name the world to quiet it,
draw borders around what frightens us.
But fear is faithful—
it returns with every sunrise,
reminding us the map is not the mountain,
and reason only another storm
in the endless desert of being.
— kenne
Empress Leilia On A Foothills Wildflower — Image by kenne
The Empress Leilia lands,
her wings a hush of amber light.
One brief throne—
a wildflower trembling
under her grace.
The mountain holds its breath
to watch beauty pause.
The desert bows once,
then forgets.
— kenne
Carillo Trail — Image by kenne
Nearing the Birthday
Soon another year
will place its hand
on my shoulder.
Nothing is wasted.
Pain becomes a record
that I was here long enough
to be marked.
I will not ask
for fewer days of pain.
I will ask
for more moments of noticing—
the hummingbird darting
the chipmont on the ground,
The olive tree’s kindness of shade.
If this is my work now,
I accept it gladly:
to love the world
as it is,
from inside
this aging, faithful body.
Tell me,
what else
would I have been practicing for?
— kenne
Little Verdin in the Desert Willow by kenne
Little Verdin in the Desert Willow
A tiny pulse of feather—
among the Willow’s green—
the Sky—so dark a Sapphire—
it swallows what is seen—
He flickers—like a secret—
the Morning will not tell—
and leaves the hush of Desert—
more infinite—and still—
Sunset Sky — Image by kenne
From the patio—
clouds split, the sun breaks open,
rays scatter like prayers.
Evening settles in,
silence stitched with desert wind,
night takes the last fire.
Lupine Art — Painting by kenne
I think of how often beauty hides in plain sight—
the slender stem, the trembling petals,
the way blue cradles purple
like a blessing.
In this painting,
spring is not a season
but a small awakening of the heart.
— kenne