My feet are wet from stepping in a puddle I could not see, because the drive way is dark shrouded by woods and the thick smell of moss I walk, with thoughts imbellished upon imagery that has weaved itself into this night air I can see the dim light at the end of the way woodsmoke utters distraction as I stop to stare at the existence of everything simply nothing I make my way home
Clouds brought with them a cold breeze, rain! There was no shade to play under Walking through the drizzle Like nothing out of the ordinary I feel ordained by something great when I stand Here amongst these old bodhi There knowledge is formed in the rigidity Of there twisted bodies How pleased I am the seasons are changing
A joy to see you return, with the changing seasons. May the stars shine light on the damp fertile earth, beneath your feet.
There is a stand of trees Sitting innocently within the forest, Foliage drifts lifeless to the floor Rain pelts the green backs of ferns This will be the last month I spend in this place Again I will fly in the heavens Where I know I do not belong I will see the whites of gods eyes Captured in fields of snow where I will wander Unsure of anything, just the way I like it Only enticed to follow the sun I am sure I will see you there in my thoughts (thank you sylvanlightning I am happy to return)
I think that this one is absolutely stunning. I LOVE reading stuff I can relate with, and I relate with this one. I say, good job; it's hard to convey what you are feeling, and you succeeded.
murder of crows pressed against the back of my mind how they moved in the rain one landed on the van, we could hear his feet scrap like tap dancing or the sound of water falling from the sky I read and drank tea all afternoon (Thank you AshtonsMom, I appreciate your words)
I walked to the side of a small pond To fill a bucket of water Instead I stood still and listend To its endless movement Waterfall
sounds of piano so delicate I could possibly cry a mediation of my heart where there is nothing but memories of the people I love I could laugh at this cliche
Oh MY Goodness for real...great. I'm addicted to your work. Your words are music...I wish I were as gifted as you. You are outstanding.
(this poem can be for you ashtonsmom, you can read more of my poetry on this website, www.exiledpoets.bravehost.com, my work is under redhawk) I have been asked to take time to walk beside a friend so we may share words a thousand dragon flies sputter from the edge of our toungues we may discover the ideas behind companionship
Young tree roots cling to the edge of a barren stump life perpetuates through death foliage goes from green to shade to silhouette as I hitch hike slowly on the side of the road
I have a friend who seeks the relevance of hidden poetry Out amongst the people she serves in a coffee shop Desperately the dissatisfaction of her heart fails everytime She looks into there eyes To be apart of, what does it mean? To find the stillness of all things, what does this mean? Pen scraps the gentle or violent words of this hidden verse This magic of all things Etching the fine defintition of each thing percieved Light, dark through letters that form Understanding Bent natures, forged personalities Creativity Creating Created Creation throught the soft written lines Of all things
