Thursday, September 26, 2013


Creek cairns


I come to the woods today
to thank Her for Her changes,
for Her chlorophyll, green, green, green,
still with us even now that Summer is past.
I look up into the treetops, and still!
the sun comes through, green, green,
She not willing to let go yet of summer’s bounty.

A tree fallen recently in the bubbling creek
creates a wondrous cavity where the creek speaks,
deep, dark bass notes, grounding me
within the rush of white water.
I move along, and notice now,
the creek has arisen so high,
new roots are exposed, my path more narrow,
the water carrying away old silt and mud
that had endured there long and long.

I glance up then, and “Oh!”
escapes my mouth, beyond my will,
for there upon the ancient boulder,
the creek singing all around,
some being has come to build cairns. Sixteen!
The newness! The heart-singing surprise!
I welcome the change- Change, come!
I’m ready.

Annelinde Metzner
Elizabeth’s Path
September 26, 2013

Cairns have been built everywhere in the world as markers for pilgrims, or to say, "be aware!"  Read more here.

Experience some of the artistry of nature works by Andy Goldsworthy of Scotland.


Friday, September 20, 2013

This Most Huge Yes

Elsie in her hat

This Most Huge Yes

I must have been four years old, out for an armload of wildflowers
-daisies, mallow flowers, phlox.
Elsie and I sat on a rock  to rest in the shade of the gnarled apple tree.
“Oh World, I cannot hold thee close enough!” cried Elsie, my Tante,
and on and on, poems by memory,
astounding my young ears with the bigness, the width of life beyond my ken.
Dickenson, Heine, Goethe, Millay,
-all fair game to Elsie’s keen mind and deep delight.
What is the world? She answered for me,
just a hint of what was to come, what could be, beyond the now.
I gazed at her above me,
and walked home with her, my arms full of flowers,
my little hand in hers.
And now, many years have passed.
My Tante is ninety-seven, but still, poems sprout from her lips,
and she, with her searching mind, evokes them from me as well.
“Prithee, let no bird call!”
We happen into a field, wild with flowers,
daisies, phlox, a wild quilt of color.
Thrice we return, picking armloads of wildflowers,
holding, holding, ever loving this life, unwilling to let go.
This divine charge we accepted so long ago
just to love this, just to live this,
eyes wide as daisy petals, enveloped in earthly scents,
knee-deep in colors,
just this most huge Yes.

Annelinde Metzner

May 2011

I have been so blessed to be influenced by my aunt, Elsie Horton, for most of my life.   She first introduced me to poetry while on our walks in nature, when I was very young.  On September 25, 2013, Tante Elsie will celebrate her one hundredth birthday.   She is still having a powerful influence on all those who know her.

     The poem, "This Most Huge Yes," is the title of my latest chapbook of 25 poems, which can be purchased with Paypal by clicking the "Buy" tab at the top of this page.

Elsie reciting poetry by my parent's grave, at age 99.  Photo by Susa Silvermarie.

Elsie cooking at home

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Canada Geese

Canada Geese

Canada Geese  
I ride through my little town, early,
the new-morn sun peeping at me between the houses,
the breathless joy of a new day.
A new day!    And what’s this?
A car slows and stops on the hill up ahead.
Canada Geese!
They have returned from their wild wanderings
to our little lake, right here,
on their way far, far to the south.
The Canada Geese, proud, distinguished,
grey, white and black in their formal attire,
move slowly across the street.
ever dignified, never rushed,
on their own time
going ‘round the world.
We wait, astounded, 

on this new day,
in my little town, 

as the flock of Canada Geese,
the beauty of this world, 

quacking and wobbling,
crosses our path.
The other driver and I pass each other slowly,
bowing, smiling inwardly,
giving thanks.

Annelinde Metzner
Black Mountain
September 9, 2013

Thursday, September 5, 2013


Fukushima nuclear plant burning after tsunami and earthquake in 2011


I clutch at my eyes when I think of you, nuke.
I remember your soft hum and icy aura
and I always think “We’ve gone too far....”

I cannot grasp it.
How can it be
that you could one day melt at your core
and somehow could melt down the core of me
and my baby one day could arrive
with no legs or no eyes....

Will there be schoolchildren one day,
in a thousand years, maybe?
They will visit our monument.
“Here we guard the plutonium.”

Before now, they left to us
Stonehenge and harpsichords,
aqueducts, bibles,
but we are leaving an unspeakable poison,
almost eternal,
a ceaseless worry visited on all yet-to-be-born.

I clutch at my eyes when I think of you, nuke.
My heart twists in pain.
Shamefully, inwardly, I beg,
“oh my sweet Earth,
my Mother,
I’m sorry,
so sorry.”

Annelinde Metzner

December 1980

Nomura family, near Fukushima nuclear plant in Japan. (Eric Rechsteiner)

READ MORE about the current conditions in Japan after the Fukushima meltdown.

It is almost two years since the colossal earthquake and tsunami in northeastern Japan that killed 20,000 people and caused the world's worst nuclear disaster in 25 years. The Nomuras' home city of Koriyama, an inland commercial hub with 337,000 people and shimmering views of nearby mountains, was spared the tsunami's monstrous waves. But it could not escape the clouds of radioactive particles that spread widely, following multiple explosions at the Daiichi plant. The total amount of radiation released into the air was (depending on who funded the estimate) between 18 and 40% of the quantity released during Chernobyl in 1986 – and over an area of Japan with a population density 10 times greater. In the aftermath, radiation levels in Koriyama spiked at 30 to 40 times higher than legal limits, contaminating the city with caesium and other long-life radionuclides for decades to come.                           

                                  Guardian/Observer, February 23, 2013