Friday, April 13, 2012


image borrowed from bing


Standing in mountain meadows,
ankle deep
in thick bee-blasted clover,
staring up
at the cumulus headgear
most jagged peaks sport,

I swear I hear singing,
an angelic choir,
a complete Gregorian
or Buddhist chant,
with marvelously blended voices
heralding my presence,
without words,

still clearly thrusting
a message of welcome
straight through my heart.

Glenn Buttkus’

April 2012

Posted over on

Would you like to hear the author read this Flash 55 to you?


Anonymous said...

Rippling luxouriant vistas of spring burgeoning into summer.....

I'm [always....] hearing Bulgarian chant and Mongolian Urtiin Duu, wild and unrestrained, trills and glissandos and arpeggios, speering and soaring beyond the heavens.....

G-Man said...

Fantastic post Glen
Loved your 55
Thanks for playing
Have a Kick Ass Week-End

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Great imagery and loved how the poem moved along.

Anonymous said...


"heralding my presence,
without words,
still clearly thrusting
a message of welcome
straight through my heart"

This makes me breathe a bit more deeply.

Brian Miller said...

smiles...nice moment...almost a sacred one...i have had a few of those out in nature...far from civilization and all the distractions...

Zoe said...

thrusting straight to our hearts too... lovely write. :)

Semaphore said...

I've felt this standing on the curve of Caswell Bay in Wales, with the expanse of blue waters stretching out in front of me as if it reflected the canopy of heaven

1emeraldcity said...

like the "bee blasted clover" and the overall powerful reaction to nature. Very nice work!

Charles Miller said...

Really nicely captured moment, captivating in its clarity and deeply felt self-awareness. Very special moments like these sometimes have a cathartic effect. I think natural splendors with their awe and wonder help us sort out the essential from the other stuff in our lives. Excellent poem.