I hope that I have not become
A garden of your worry
As lost have I found myself
To most of what was once
Have left the tool for another spade
A new life on the rise
Here I toil, finding myself
Dotted with more depth, more dirt
More truth to become with you
A fruit that groans
As seasons play upon our habitat
Tag: seasons
A Lady of Seasons (day 1170)
On and on the seasons chime
A golden riddle: effortless rhyme.
But in my rule
I’ve begun to drool
For behold, a lady of infinite time.
Try Again (day 738)
You cannot win every day you try
You cannot lose every day either
You cannot fly among the birds
Without walking among the worms
You cannot begin to know it all
You cannot learn without advice
You cannot grow without a breath
Of inward, deep, and conscious thought
You cannot smell the flowers in winter
You cannot speed the times of seasons
You cannot walk amongst the trees
Without a path to lead you forth
You cannot love without a love
You cannot hope without a dream
You cannot be without a seat
You cannot cry without a smile
But in the end it pulls us in
We wrap around and believe within
A lasting hug, some tea to share
You and me as we try again
Drained and Bled (day 722)
Refined the madness will walk away
At seasons end to sell your hay
Share the sun, enjoy each day
But don’t get lost along the way
Then if the last straw be drawn
Finding you left standing on the lawn
No goods leftover to be pawned
It will be sorrow; all sun be gone
It’s known it’s fearful inside this head
Laughter spinning around the bed
The makeshift scarecrow: no wit, dead
No roof to shelter, no home to stead
But not all’s lost when wits have fled
A lone wild grouse found and bled
Enough to feed and safely tread
At least for a little while, to ease the dread
Ancient Ruins (day 702)
Standing here marked in my sentinel pose
The pigeons have come home, bringing what blows
Shifting time here from then, now, and future
And watching seasons twist before my eyes
Carrying new colours with birth, love, and death
But my purpose has been lost in the changing of regime
What once was a tyrant has now become kindly
Taxes increased, but civil liberties have too
Blinking slowly I become a shifting flower of dust
A shocking array of memories unwritten
While passersby brood and confuse points on maps
And come more and go, pigeons of flight
Remain here in harbour, remain here at rest
Wally and Waddle McIntyre (day 681)
Wally and Waddle
Are two of the same
Penguin and penguin
One shorter
One taller
They stand
As they huddle
Happy together
Dancing in tune
In a glorious wobble
From here to the bottom
Or until seasons end
For then with a new born
The charge will be on
In a rippling instant
In one big mad dash
To the water: a feast
To the water with greed!
Swirling and spinning
Around and around
The catch and the kill
Eat until filled
Then return to the nest
To share in this test
Feed our new child
Fed beak to the beak
With moments that ensue
We know each other
Relentless we shall go
Our love will reign
Wally and Waddle can be purchased here.
Our Dirt (day 505)
So now the grass has grown
Skies that shine down
Blow winds over the mounds
And we sing to each other
The love songs we’ve never been
Daisies grow hearty here
Where did we lose ourselves?
Seasons pass over like time
Distant in their monotony
Passive as they attack
Pulling at the tips of the grass
Searching for a better way
A life away, closer to the sun
And our dirt settles deeper
We All Die Old (day 503)
The water pushing past the secret doors of the needle riddled floor
Sing to the lonely leaves forgotten and rotting amongst the mushrooms
The trees that have spewn forth their dying seasons
Happily lap up the dotted dew resting a while in the sunlight
And spiders that haven’t eaten yet this morning
Share the same edges of bark with the sleeping moths
Burrowing into the nice alcoves of hidden mysteries
Stretching between the years written into the aging forest
With squirrels keeping track of all the scores
Hunting out that which shouldn’t be forgotten
But in this season of time that dances amongst the shoots
Where the fresh birds chirp happily to the echoes of the canopy
There is always the runner, he who ensures nobody gets comfortable
In the center of the trail he kills with rubber
The youngest of them all, the new growing sprout
But the earth is all life
The change is all good
The circle grows bigger
And we all die old
Transformations (day 500)
Searching and crawling through these empty streets
They call my name but I heed them no attention
Memories caught up in my thoughts like tumbleweeds in a corner
Hot water failing to warm my shaking bones
Sunlight stretching into the corners my toes fail to remain
And I cry with streaking mascara and ugly sobs
Deeply lamenting the loss of all that’s been known
Holding onto something that’s simply figurative
And then, like a slowly falling leaf from the nearby tree
A quiet calm flows over the angst and tremors
Little sparks of light gather at the tips of my toes
My brow begins to smooth as I close my eyes and smile
Children playing comes into focus
And the tea smells just as it should
A transformation undergoes just as the turning of seasons
And the lightness of my steps
Seasons of Memories (day 392)
Moments that hang onto us like the deep winters night
Make the hard rain warming, deep to the bone
Smiles that come from long lost smells
Perfect the spinning wheels that hum in my ears
Moments that hang onto us like the warm sun of a summers day
Remind us of no better days
They take away the pain and dim the pleasant drone
Into a see of light thoughts and salty kisses
Moments that hang onto us like fresh dew of a springs morning
Help to refresh the cutest moments we’ve lived before
The green bike that rode straight, the small footsteps
There are no memories that escape the seasons of time