Carol Bass

a continuous flow of feelings and color, inspired by the beauty around us

post 232: my friend, good-bye, adios, forever


Au revoir mon ami

we lived in neighboring
seaside towns where endless winters
turned into summer days
gi gong classes, art exhibits,
astonished I am
from different cultures we bumped
into bees into gardens into honey into children into stories
into grace and goodness
you helped me with love
guided me through tangled vines and briars
returning to childhood
we squeezed open a rusty, squeaking wolf’s trap
met everyone again with open hearts

you told me you’d live forever
now, you say you are dying
oh, but I see how this works
the stories…
how honey lives
your footsteps sounds on the stairs
lit beeswax candles on your tree
the care, like a shawl, you covered me with

you’re released now, your turn
for some exploring
your stories rolling through time
you can whiz past stars
fly through black holes

Find a Place Outside


Carol-3492a-2-copy copy

and have your miracle
a place only you and God know
don't wait

you just noticed your breath
and felt it mix with the breeze
so right now is perfect
go be with God



for my daughter who runs



so I found a dirt road 
that you'll love
quiet, with shadows drawing lines back and forth
early morn or late afternoon with the sun warm and gentle
you choose a time 
I'll drive you there

across the marsh 
green herons perch on the old man's dock
a creek, parallel to this road
flows high and low with the tide, 
and waits to run with you


touching God


sunny day before Thanksgiving
a new baby, a new dog, an old dressing recipe 

old men firing up a line of grills 
near the Miracle Temple of the Apostolic Faith 
sandpipers scooting over marsh mudlfats
an entire morning resetting passwords

recent hurricane waves rearranged the beach
hurling sand from ancient worlds right into our laps
mixing mysteries with plates as we arrange them over green placemats
our bodies bump around the table, lighting candles
through clouds of God

nutritional list for spirit



slicing carrots


next to a vase of daffodils

my life explodes with joy 
orange carrots next to sensuous deep yellow
I can hardly breathe, the beauty takes over
God has placed us among banana leaves so green,
the soul glimpses paradise

hummingbird and sprinkler

the cows are dancing

parched plants clinging to last green
we turned on the back yard sprinkler
suddenly so many birds 
wrens, titmice, cardinals flittering in the dripping
hummingbird darting back and forth
through banana leaves to fence post wire
two lizards, too
all beings playing
like God intended 

I imagined an isis man sitting 
on our porch, both of us
watching the hummingbird

I asked if he remembered those other worlds 
where he was part of the music  
I asked if he could drop the fear and help with love 
I saw him actually smile


New Year's Hawk

pindo palm

the cardinal mother, our sister
with mysterious wisdom

choosing a palm we planted last year,
toward the end of one drooping frond
capable of good rocking,
she constructed a hidden home 
while eggs were forming in her belly
she knew about protection 

moss, dried oak leaves, pine straw, a bit of fabric
comfort, security 
a universal knowing 
of the wind, rain, and sun
of the bird
of the tree


darting mind


from Guggenheim to Australian Poetry
green, so green, waving banana-leaf shadows 
to machinery grumbles in a field across the marsh, 
birdsong and summer clouds to quiet 
here we go

fan, green, silent heat....
studio time
minutes to love
return to other worlds
of God and breath 
painting paper any way 
tearing into objects of no boundaries

love too small a word
for crickets, katydids, butterflies, tide, children
friends, woodpeckers, cardinal's nest
maybe if I say it this way
love, love, love, love, love..........





sometimes I'm large 
a bunch of marsh grass in gooey mud
snails sticking to me
egrets searching through 
tides rolling over, covering me for hours 
this morning I'm small
a banana spider on a porch that wasn't here last year
weaving webs over and over 
'cause mine have been ripped from the porch by the owner

also, I'm a batch of glue  
holding down ripped paper on a collage,
red brushstrokes so near 
green circles around me
painted by an artist trying to capture
spider, grass,
tide and mud