Light on warm breezes
the morning frog serenades;
a universe awakens
Light on warm breezes
the morning frog serenades;
a universe awakens
It landed on a small and flimsy tendril of tree
The weight of her causing limb to sway; a swing
Caught spying a mystery to far to contemplate
she took wing, her fingers stretched out in prayer
to the invisible breath of gods
gracefully, willfully, and without regard to
my spying
Leapt and dove beyond the fence
of self made boundaries; seeing no more.
I want to return to nature. I want to be enveloped in her embrace, touch the heart of the forest, and delight in her acceptance of each cautious footfall as I return home to her, a wayward daughter long devoted to the new world of metal and maligned dreams but knowing I belong to the world that was and should ever be.
Confinement wages war against the contents of wings
seeking to direct the will of the sun and moon
as if in acknowledging nature subservient to ink
it will be made true.
But making true does not truth make.
Thus the only contemplation of caligraphication
is in the contents of my heart where
the determination of the Universe is between
only us and the only writing of truth
is in the bluebird singing and
the composition of storms.
Be Courageous and Brave
do not let dust
linger at the crossroads
or beneath a the lee
Step out
choose the path
walk confidently
the journey’s length
you may not get
where you are going
but
you will always be
where you should.
Now rain is falling
earth swells in delight
trees clamor in the wind for drops
birds mutter quietly
in the distance a thunder sets out
to warn of dangers unseen
butterflies cling to eave and limb
all wait, breathing in
the now Nature has brought
and I am left
believing there is a lesson here
some great mystery to unravel
in the simplicities of this morning
but I all I can do is be delighted
reach out my hand from open door way
to feel the drops upon my skin
smiling, even as a siren echoes out over tree and roof
in warning,
I sigh out whispers
unspoken and answers
with no question.
Like a tiger caged
Pace between bars and spaces
air pregnant with choice
For years now
it’s been a desert
though it wasn’t always.
Once just on
the other side of need to forget
the lush and green
filled with life
and teamed
with anticipation
the wind kissed grass swayed
woodland bones creaked and moaned
Life bellowed life
and the world was filled
with such expectation.
but somewhere between
a season of drought
and seasons of chill
the rain stopped falling
and the clouds all fell down.
Now even the lizards
and scurrying things
barely come around.
My shadow sits
a single splash of
stone
where once there was
plush grass of flesh and bone
waiting patiently
for a spring
that cannot come…
yet.
I dreamed I was a dandelion
brilliantly green
crowned in golden plume
spring wind gently pushing
in nameless merriment
often spoken by seed summer lifted
and floated among bees and errant wasp.
Soon seasons tilted hours through days
rains kissed face lifted
and soon I changed;
naked, frightened and bare
a weed, stranger amongst
buttercups and grasses.
Then as if nature waited for despair’s
long embrace
hope rose out in feathers of white
I became many
holding fast to the body of age
until wind came again
a gentle lover to wisp away
me, as many, into her arms
spread into the world of the living
little hopes with
wings unbendingly light
searching soft earth to bare myself again.
Waking, sun touched my face.
Pillow soft beneath my head
wind at the sill calling my view;
a dandelion seed caught against the
screen of my human abode.
Sliding pane against givens
I plucked it and set it to the air
softly.
It traversed on roads I could not see
And wondered I this:
was I seeing myself
or was my soul seeing me.
I must applaud nature
who in Spring when life
is creating life and
all about us is the evidence
of their affection
in our daily trappings we are
merely put off by the dust
collected on our windows
and the tissues we must buy.
*For my friend who continually reminds me of what pollen really is! lol