Vox Populi
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Donna Hilbert: Two Poems
On My Morning Walk I Think of Frost
I walk out to see the sun come up,
but wind is howling cold.
I turn back toward home and find
the orange moon instead.
The foothills burn, the moon is full
and risen, overhead.
The other coast is under siege
of pounding snow and ice.
Fire and ice, ice and fire.
I’m loathe to say much more
of fear, of loss, and of desire.
It’s all been said, or sung, before.
~~
Walking the Beach, I think of Mr. Emerson
“I don’t care what I see outside. My vision is within!
Here is where the birds sing! Here is where the sky is blue!
— E.M. Forster
I wish it were so with me,
but I do need A Room with a View
and also a walk on the beach,
where terns and all manner
of gulls swarm and squawk,
where pelicans fly in
to dive for breakfast,
and herons patiently wait.
If grace walks with me,
I might spot a dolphin or two,
or a shark surfacing for a moment,
and the purse of my heart
will widen with wonder enough
to hold fast another day.
~~~
Copyright 2025 Donna Hilbert
“On my Morning Walk…” was first published in Eclectica.
“Walking the Beach…” was first published in ONE ART.
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I am always impressed with Donna’s concision and sensitivity to the outer world, her inner world, and how she can draw upon our shared literary history to enrich and deepen the poem. Though I don’t have such immediate access to the beach (a whole three miles away!), Donna reminds me to pay attention to the natural world, and I always feel better for it. Thank you, Donna.
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From my room with a view I see my tree’s heart expand into 4 big, powerful branches that expand into 11 strong ones, that expand & that expand & expand. No wonder my heart expands with them as soon as dawn shows them to me day after day! Thank you, Donna, for your poems.
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Thank you so much!
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What I most appreciate about Donna Hilbert’s poetry (I’m a long-time fan) is her ability to do so much with so few words. These two poems are great and, as others said, just what we need to read right now, at this moment in our beautiful but always troubled world.
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Yes, Donna’s poem do a lot with a little.
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Lovely, Donna.
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Thanks to all of you for your kind comments! You fill my heart.
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Very, very nice. Thank you, Donna!
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And Tashi is out on the deck, an old dog soaking in the morning sun and before I get caught in the web, I admire the golden of the light on my old altar and rise to join Tashi—two old ladies, cool air, warm sun.
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Thank you for providing the poetry that opens my eyes to the beauty of the morning.
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And damn I need to read the poetry after I read the analysis of our shitty war.
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Ok. I read the poetry again. Now I can get up and deal with the world.
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yes, we need to pay attention to both the evil in the world and the beauty.
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!!!!!!
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“the purse of my heart / will widen with wonder”–yes, thank you, Donna
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Exactly the phrase that captured my heart! thank you Donna and William.
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Yes! What a great analogy!
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I like the hints of Robert Frost and Emerson among the birds and dolphins.
And though loving Forster’s novels, I agree with Donna Hilbert that what we experience outside the windows and walls of our interiors is often where the “grace” emerges. The final stanza of walking the beach in grace, is nearly mystical in its depth. It often seems we live in a world that tries to clamp down our hearts. These poems are glorious in their heart-beats and openings.
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Oh yes, so beautifully said, Jim. Your comments here are gems.
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Agreed!
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❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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These poems reminded me to be grateful for the privilege of living right ‘above’ the Pacific and a magnificent view, parks, and walkways to stop, listen to the waves and the gulls, watch, wonder…
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sounds beautiful, Rose Mary.
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It is. And I am so grateful. But Donna’s poems pushed me to see it consciously again and being awake to its beauty. Sometimes one takes it as a daily given.
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Can I move in?! I am so happy for you, Rose. You deserve all the beauty. I know what you mean about taking it for granted and how Donna’s poems remind us to re-awaken.
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Yes, I could not exist with a room with a view; I would have shriveled and died years ago.
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Perfect poems for my wakening day, my newest week and March into and across this year. How quickly it goes, the first quarter. February brought us our worst and best days all year at the very first and the very last of them. But what about this lovely poetry that carries voicing birds, orange moon, fire, ice, and wind we mustn’t fear. Poetry that turns everything into light in which we can abide.
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beautiful, Sean. Thank you.
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