Category: peaceful

Sincere Moments

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Sincere stars
Like each moment
Unnecessary little hearts.
Carry in a windswept
Memory,
Where’s my limit?
Gone and wrote home
Without it.
And numbers,
Many numbers,
That couldn’t count on
A passion
So I lay there
In a dreamspace
Like a memory;
Long glance.
In a moment,
In a moment
My life.

When the wind blows
I am a moment
Let me be forgotten
For I am fleeting,
Ever needing,
Ever beating
Long in the heart.
For in each moment
There is sweet passion,
No more symantics
Unending lessons
And sentences
Rapture
A long glancing star.

Starlit Frost

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Night holds grace
A wish was ever grown upon
In elegance and composure
Stillness of such starlight.
From cassiopeia to Jupiter
Horizon stretches in silhouette
Basking lay each frosty blade
Of grass now nearing frozen.
Faint rustling of thou distant river
Blends its course with swaying poplars
Amidst comes forth a lone coyote call
Right below Polaris’s mark.

Ode to Goldenrod

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What is your weather?

So delicate and sure
Sentinal of harvest.
What once glowed gold
Now delicately so tender,
Brown and wilted;
Seeds like rain
Fall from your mane
In one breath of wind
Shaken your stand.

Of all the ancient history
Stored in your very seed,
How does each season
Keep bringing you to me?
So that our fields can grow
Yellow in the fond sun,
So that our vase can be
Filled up with royal thee.

Goldenrod in Autumn

Another Vision

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I want to take on a new vision
One where this doesn’t exist
None of this exists
Everything is different.

I sit here in darkness
A dream room
Slightly out of center
Upon a small patch
Of well used rug
Reminiscing on moments
Of movement
How it integrates
Asking myself what is important
So that I can keep
Peace of mind
Peace in my pipe song.

My mind dances
My soul ignites
My senses tingle
Slight breeze
Upon my naked chest
But my blood remains
Pounding deep within my heart
So that I can hear
Each word I cannot speak.

This is my vision
And it escapes
A misunderstood truth
That was lost
As roads paved their way
Across a land
That was not land to be paved.
How many years lost?
Death of a mind,
Visions forgotten,
Self elapsed,
And me, left alone
Upon each moment of dark
A life vanishes
In preparation
For another to take time
Away from a no-one home
Of another vision.

Then as smoke erupts
Stepping stones
Take their heart
Into a vision
That holds tall grace
Of an ancient spruce
Standing in my heart
So I can be forever
And gone
Un-vision.

Forgiven

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Forgive this tender Earth
It has been here a while
Surfacing each destruct
With an ancient iron will
Of I can heal this, too.

Bid not darkening rain clouds
A speedy adieu,
Nor slithering worms
A much deeper tunnel.
No, each, just as meaningless
Stretches on deeper, meaningful
Just as horizons – hidden –
Become forgotten
To those who sleep.

Just there, as lightening strikes
Portal to Heaven’s true cataclysm
Shall sit a tiger
Size beyond what can be thought
Reconciling each footstep
Weaving through spoiled badlands
That shall refund Earth its omen
As raindrops to recover.

There then stands
What growth will always achieve
A watering hold for true survivors
And a river towards a great sea.

Full Love

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Today I choose full love
That grapples at my conscious edges
My error code
Tumbling down dark mode numbered lines,
Plainly and painfully
Guarding my thought patterns
That lead me away from full love
Which I choose to keep today
In my basket of offline organics
Springing to life within me.

Seasons

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My main emblems
Have begun to fade
Into a soft glow
An aura
Of whispers and tilting
With wind bending
My point of view
So that birds land
Upon my boughs
To which I can take
No meaning hidden
And softly acknowledge
Ancient Gaia’s shift
As seasons go.

Draining Memories

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Though I fall far from the Pacific’s graceful shores
I swim with my head held high
Through sea-birds and sea-weeds
And crabs at my toes.

A memory I chose to keep
Brings a feather to the ground,
The wind high on snowy mountains
I can see from the shore
With city sprawl developments
Slowly creeping further West.

So I sing to the lapping
Of this cold ocean’s running tide.
My musings of a sandpiper
Leaving its webbed footprints there,
And barnacles in tidal pools
Slowly draining you know where.