Category Archives: Nature

Moonlit Falls

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Moonlit falls stream down the moss grove,

tumbling away in a secret cove,

covered in whispers of love,

stumbling hearts recovered as time stalls,

spirits hovered over a silver beam,

reflecting the awe stare of your soul onto mine. Austere sincerity piercing through the smoke of burnt time passed.

At last, stark contrast, light blast into dark.

Hell dogs bark as they are dragged, ragged, raging onto the sinking ark of all that couldn’t last.

The lit torch of faith drinking love from the air, burning evermore, everywhere.

The glare lights your face in blurred clarity.

Disparity lured into grace, laced with allure of certainty in a questionable place.

Intentional haste, tainting doubt with confidence, connecting us.

Taste of endless water, surrounded by drought.

Your eyes chased loved out of my heart, unfound until you came about.

Wicked White Roses

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Lost in a garden, fresh flower petals wipe my tears.

Ivy covered stones line my confused path.

Fertile soil, exhausted options.

I sit on a dirt speckled bench in my long white dress, weeping,

with a white flower in my hair.

You, in your black suit, appeared sophisticated in front of me like destiny.

You navigated the garden like it was your home, bringing me to mine.

Every afternoon thereafter the garden was my sanctuary.

I was never lost again, for the image of your face was found.

I imagined you would come. . .

Idle thoughts were a cruel diversion from reality.

Fantasy pulled me in, consumed by your memory.

In such a pleasant place, my heart and hopes were crushed like grapes ready to be wine,

. . .dreams stomped out by purple feet.

Such a beautiful man, a silent allure, calm powerful presence.

     The charm of the flowers teased me with their simple existence.

Years passed, I began to detest their smell, their appeal transformed to rubbish.

I could not see a flower without falling into depression.

Wicked White Roses,

. . .wish I could hold you; Marigold Melancholy, young minds folly,

. . .torturous yellow tulips; yearning for your lips.

Carnation damnation.

Morbid Orchid; god forbid my love lost his way as I did.

You never came, flowers were not the same.

As I hated them, I could not stay away, it was a sick addiction to your memory.

Wicked white roses lived everlasting in a vase on my dining room table.

I took better care of them than I did of myself.

The eternal image of your face stayed with me until the last day of my life.

I kept you with me always, though you never returned to our garden.

 

SKINNED APPLE

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Bonfire grows, guitar strums, the river in the distance flows; water-sound hums.

Mother nature giver; enhances us fatter, round woes drum.

Trances brain-batter, society clatters, climbing up irreverent ladders, fumble down our paths, forget our original calves, letting go of our primitive halves.

Craving mouths open agape, wondering ?where? we come from. . . down the lake.

Importance transforms to impotence; dependent on the industrial world, destiny curled. . . curtailed by the wind of capitalism.

No longer free; to the woods we sinned, to the forest we abandoned, to the jungle as our greatest smuggle.

No elements to snuggle our skin; lost, bare: skinned apple, mutated pear.

At one last tree we finally stare; wondering ?what? it used to be like to have long hair, cradling nature as our nurture in one.

Earth becoming a dry perth, burnt by the sun.

If you have enough power in your smog-filled lung, stand up as trees turn to log, hog turns to meat-slab, crab vanishes from the sea, plea to the corporate democracy that all this demolishing is insanity.

Open your mind ?what? world would you rather enter, we hunt behind closed factory doors with electric shock tools, in place of our innate kindness we must implement rules.

We manipulate our world to be too easy, our instincts sloppy, our reflexes queasy.

Fallen Illusion

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The stars fall down on illusion and the grass disdains their presence.

The un-flowering buds blossom deeper into melancholy.

A fever grows to love and be heard, as you cause movement in the Earth with every step you take – then stopping the anger inside you when the Earth falls still.

Son of the Sea

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You are the Sun, you are the Seas, you are the idiot on his knees.

You are everything and yet you bow.

You are the Earth, you are the Breeze, yet, why are you he who flees?

Stand beneath the Moon, stand beneath the Stars and come into my arms.

Stand illuminated by the light of the Universe and see your true purpose.

Swift Snow

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Snow swiftly approaches.
Flurries hurry my way.
From the swirling sky, flakes float down collecting on the entire town,
piling up on rooftops, coating every inch with an icy shine.
Floppy ears retreat into the earth, under the slush filled street.
Covering everything in white, filling me with rotten spite.
Yearning for sunlight, the cold touches my nose and transforms me into all of my woes.
A grouch who loathes soggy socks and frost ridden toes,
I’ll stay hidden until spring.
A grinch in need of a pinch, awake me from this crystal stinging nightmare.
I’ll laugh and smile like a king among flowering blossoms.
Longing for the warm breeze, to lounge like leaves on the trees.
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Bird Calls

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In the darkness of the night a bird calls out,
Flying looking for its home,
The tree it flew from has been cut down,
The birds wings grow tired but it continues to look,
What fool chopped this tree?
It was me.
I swung with my axe and set the wood ablaze.

Only after did I realize that this tree had a soul.
The soul lives on and haunts me when the sun falls.
Echoing bird calls daunt my ears,

Feathers flash flaunting before my eyes,
Of all my faults, this is the greatest.
I could not see what was before me,
All of the love and soul in your eyes,
Passed me by, I realized late.
Now it is my fate to hold this heavy pain in my chest, full with guilt.
Bursting heart, a cloud heavy with water and nowhere to rain it down.

If it were still standing, the bird would make its home again in this tree,
Even if the tree has no leaves, even if the tree is bent and twisted,
The bird would bow at the sight of it.

Cucumber Wind

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Cool crisp cucumber wind,
Drifting children are drawn to the scent of refreshing refuge from the fall,
Down the cucumber mall,
Clean sweet slices of rejoicing silence,
Familiar, even to those who crawl,
Among fields of rice, one cucumber farm persists.
One place for the abandoned to be re-found,
One quiet man sprinkles seeds abound.

Muddy waters filter clean through the thick green cucumber skin.

Quiet mouths, peaceful minds, grow healthy cucumber rinds,
Delicate hands, happy hearts pull juice from the sand, filling the cucumber core.

Beyond the mountain, along the shore, the steamy fog sweeps in over-night,
Rejuvenating any memories lost or semblance of spite,
Tossing away any worries to a blur.

The only cure for a burdened soul, where a pure cucumber is all you own.
The earth owns your life, in return, you sown its land with cucumber for all.

Once lost, now among the same,
pulled from the earth in early spring to reclaim, the crystals of the soil,
cucumber queen and cucumber king.

Floral Arrangement

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Fervent Flowers; flourishing,
Dynasty of Petals; the crown seated a top an empire of ether.
Explosion of Pollen; exposing scent, bees are attent.
Storm of Stems; thunder of thirst swells growth.
Orchestra of Leaves; organic sound, shading the ground.
Bombardment of Buds; bustling, struggling for power.
Collaboration of Color; kingdoms unite, calling all eyes.
Water is their Inspiration, it forgives and soothes from the core outward.
Sun is their Salvation, it compels them toward enlightenment.
Wind is their Whisper, it calls to your nose and brushes past your ear.
You are not their owner.
You are a mere onlooker privileged by the magnificence of seemingly simple life.
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