Tag: brown

Inner Bird

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What is the real reason for my inner voice?
Is this ego?
Have I whispered so loudly
To all Grandfather trees
That my echo and sensations
Are no longer my own?

Has my inner bird
Whistled alone
In surrounding scenes of chaos,
And called home
Mother Hen
Whom I sit under this great canopy with?;
Oaks and Elms and Maples.

Does my voice match my vision?
Do I see sky blues,
And earthy browns,
With forest greens all around?
Or have I become muddled
Lack of colour:
Grays, black, and cement.

Why Didn’t I See Your Eyes

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Why didn’t I see your eyes?

Still I tried
For this vision I haven’t found
And your browns, greens,
Forever changing
As landscape’s seasons change
And my footsteps
Through my soul’s golden copse
Recapturing.

Why didn’t I see your eyes?

Even though my feet are as tired
As cobblestoned history,
Gray hair grows upon my patience’s mind
Though burdened with none but thoughts
It is mine golden copse
Retiring into my hallow
That comforts even in
My burning question’s fever.

Why didn’t I see your eyes?

Ode to a Red Tail (day 3077)

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In a screeching halt
The red tail swept in
Wings flashing
Gray and black
And a golden brown
Of its vibrant tail
Left me speechless
As I watched.
So mysterious,
So close to home,
So brave in its approach.
Then just as quick
Off in flight
Those big wings began to wave
Elegant and smooth
Like a ballroom dance
Off, beyond my sight.

So Goes and Wind (day 3071)

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With my wind I have fallen in
With little tufts of grass
Whom stand so brave and tall
Against the snow, so cold.
I have blown across the whitescape
As light shades of brown
As dirt and ice that rip apart
The crisp memory of sun.
So goes the traces of my finger
Deep within the hallow
Sunken to my melting cheek bone
That grips against the snow.
So goes the sweet angel of my memory
Who has left me like a broken fire
That I have no more kindling for
Though I remember every splinter
That has sunken to my soul.

A Dance Too Good For Life (day 3038)

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As if the earth could ever see
Darwinian modes of ease
To see a leaf upon a tree
Blowing about the stem
Back and forth with every grace
A dance I could never trace
Delicate as a flower in bloom
Tough as nails that close a tomb
To anchor a setting sun
Upon the branch that bursts the buds
Then grouping in a seasonal array
One of Summer’s finest delights
That change the landscape one dare not stop
For as the bud shifts to a stem
Stem to a new growth
New growth takes the sprint of life
To bursting red and orange and brown
Then in one last graceful dance
A leap too good for chance to take
Downward left to fall away
Death pose into finale.

Arc Beams Vision (day 3020)

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I have a vision
Been coming stronger
Sitting in the middle
Of a wooden floor
Carpets laying around
Neatly arranged
Raw browns and orange
And fringe
And a comfortable
Record spinning
Easy for my heart
With a friend
Who’s looking into my eyes
To find a vision
With the smell of herbs
Floating into our souls
Palo Santo,
Incense and a candle
And plants
Creeping around the room
Like they invited me there
To sit
Like a student at the altar
Singing with the open air of breath
So clearly enchanting
The moment in the sun
As it arcs its way across
The beams of this vision.

Bushel (day 2954)

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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.