Growth vs. Growth (day 3145)

For what used to be technology
– Figments of built up society –
Has fallen down,
By our own will
Freedom seems such a funny phrase.

But then to look
Upon the birds
Returning from the South,
Weaving and spinning
Joyeous beginning
Of Spring is in the air.

All could change
All can change
Of our built up digital world:
Roads and electric poles,
City sidewalks set ablaze,
Consumption tracks
Buried deep
In plastic bags we reap.

But then to look
Just look at the greening abound!
See the buds popping
See grass growing
Watch as Sun warms the earth.

Bushel (day 2954)

This is not the answer nor should it be left misunderstood
Gods carefully listened but none took action
Forgotten and dead lay the bushel of corn
Raspy, hoarse, brown
Thickening day lay low
And Divine Interpretation was a plan that could not be laid
For dead leaves had fallen and no new growth was expected
Until the decaying layers of slumber departed
Swift onset of thaw set in for another season under her breast.

Forever (day 2944)

You’d better not steal the show
Before the guests leave the room
Lost and confused
Like red in the eye
Of Three happy youngsters
Who married the feeling
That covered their sadness
Locked in two rusty fences
Six days till November
And their faces all fallen
Cold in their bones singing
What mud cannot speak
With gospel now favoured
With two plates of pasta
And a belly that rumbles
Remaining the sideshow
Forever untitled.

Saved (day 433)

I have fallen along a slippery slope
Down through the crevices and over the knolls
Past the gnarly trees with giant roots
Over the thick grass as it stained my shorts
Under the bridge that held me up
Past the house the weened me home
Around the school that taught me so
And through the gates that held me out
And then, as I grew exhausted
At the bitter edge of the world
I was saved by a thought

Fallen Stars and Broken Limbs (day 382)

All the angels walk away
Leaving the heroes to pick up the pieces
Fallen stars and broken limbs
The world still spins upon its axis

Beautiful rhythm must also begin to end
It must roll its time and feel its caesura
The land my roar its silent beauty
The trees must hold forever their introspective gaze

And forever this girl with wings
Shall remember what deeds she has done
With fallen stars and broken limbs
Interfering on her plane ride home