i see through the trees a sky delighted
by the trees branches
echoing the hallowed breath
of the wind rustling its leaves
i am enchanted by the earth’s music
Tag: poem
# forty
the hunters are ready
they shot to kill
the innocent left standing
how dare we forget
the souls abandoned
have we not shared
the same light of the sun
with darkness comes
the illusion that we are not one
# thirty.nine
fear so absurd
it can be characterized as cowardly
for those who fear to give
are those that seem to have received so much
# thirty.eight
it is within spirit that life begins
and begins where we should be
# thirty.seven
as twilight falls the paper grays
absorbing the words i have written
sunrise will uncover their meaning
alive by the suns first rays
# thirty.six
your secret
can be heard in the pines
that release it
as they whisper it into the wind
be aware of what you say
for the pine can cleanse or reveal
what you would prefer
to stay quiet with great pain
# thirty.four
so much of what is considered truth or factual
is what we want to hear
it is within our own agendas
not to stray from anything,
on the contrary
the evil of the world is never not within us,
and will remain,
if we stay only with the like minded
frightening as it may seem,
we are really as dark as those that remain,
the villains and insane,
when our deepest desire is to do the same
the hero can be defined
as one that sees all humans as equal
fearing not the home they share,
au contraire
but in love with the tranquil garden
that needs care
# thirty.two
breathe life into
that you want to save
our survival is a primal belonging
to the energy we create
.
with calm certainty we surrender
in our deliverance
we embody a need to share and a yearning to be desired
by the all and the everything
# thirty.one
i am lost, hiding for so long
where are the warriors, that honor my name?
my fields have been violated, the soil raped
vindicated by the repulsive armor they wear
the soldiers win
silence I scream to their swords
my body will not be buried but unearthed!
# twenty.nine
there is no way to move a mountain
a river cuts through it diligently
and with its force the rocks are smoothed
as the water snakes into the ocean of consciousness