Tag: leaves

Slowly into Tea

ned Leave a comment

I wish I could cry on the good days
when my tea is softly spoken
and each of my windows
have snow lightly dancing,
exploring my imagination
in waxing crescent arising.

So it’s said my moon is slowly rising
a wind about my sail
to calm me as I build up to
a moment of my truth.
Where do I sing from?
No microphone or recorder
follows me around
making what shall soon become
lost in a myriad of webs.

Perhaps my days are all of good;
tea awaits my silent lips
even when the sun has risen cold
and my time spent entranced in forest
are met with caribou and grouse.

So maybe the I shall speak a little,
whistle a little to my tune
that whispers it’s short breath inside
each window I look out upon
and lays my ever waxing moon
into swirl of my tea leaves
where my moment comes just as the last
a fragment to be had and gone.

Mountain (day 2718)

ned Leave a comment

When the leaves began to fall
You looked away again
Turned your head and said out loud
Mountain, why you growing so tall
But in the Autumn air
You blew the wild rivers afar
Into the foggy glens
Where the wild things went to sleep
But your so gentle feet
Touched not a rock upon the steep
Calling out to soothe each leaf
Cresting at the moon
For your harvest basket took you
From the meadow to the birch copse
To the little brook to cross
Where your harvest basket grew
But silently up so high
Mountain sighed and sighed
Why do you stay so far
Maiden from afar.

-20°C (day 2705)

ned Leave a comment

The thermometer reads -20°C
Just outside the door
I watch sunlight filter through.
Clear skies at such temperatures
Steam from my breath.
The dog still has all his energy
But my fingertips exposed
Rapidly induce the fear of frostbite
Tingling away in an odd sensation
One knows better than to ignore.
The trees cackle at the wind,
No leaves left to protect,
And snow crunches loudly under foot
As one trods across
The slippery, frozen ‘stead.

Overwhelm (day 2620)

ned Leave a comment

This is the feeling of overwhelm:
Two days of rain and projects building up,
Floor bound when flight’s on,
Time to readdress.
This short story takes turns
Down a windy road
With frequent signs of introspection
No matter how many steps to the top.
Self imposed time crunch
Rehearses for none
Though all week long there’s been impending stops
Leaking through the roof.
How frequent doth thou mind relook
Over building plans and agreed terms,
Dollar signs and debits.
And when nighttime comes,
Hard day’s toil leaves sleep slow
When the cold wind blows ever nearer
The open window of deception.

Life of a Leaf (day 2408)

ned Leave a comment

I’ve grown accustomed to leaves turning my memories from fresh to curled, a well understood paradox that changes the tide so romantically it hurts like the small spots beside the bulging veins growing inside.

My smile has grown lines, my heart has extended its beats, my hearing has begun to dance with angels upon the dead leaves blowing along the roughly trampled ground – are these our memories we have yet to experience, or have they been forgotten and left to dissolve into earth?

So I crouch down low and embrace the softly blowing wind that helps me to see my passing time I used to think I loved, I used to want to love, so here I’m hurting from spatial infrequencies that cup my involuntary spasms from underneath the table and remind me to forget to itch the pain.

Does this leaf know it crumbles within my palm so slowly softly? Did it reach for me in a pure moment of thought, expecting my return upon amber wings of a sun soaked day like an emotional Prometheus on a personal mission.

Then, like the ashes of memories crumbling in scaled hands of our Phoenix, so too shall sun rise again over the horizon of a small family farm to bring with it a wet spring full of insight and gratitude that runs the width and depth of a heart shaped leaf settling softly upon a well worn path of insight.

Back Endings (day 2283)

ned Leave a comment

I never wanted to fall apart like this
Leaving pages bent and pencils broken
My back pages are written upside down
And my back pockets are filled with memories
That keep reminding me I’ve gone away.
Rusty backstops echo number five
From a once was now gone away
And we might send a letter
To remind you we’re far from you are home.
I close my eyes and wind lays your whispers
Upon my hardly kempt whiskers
With leaves blowing too early now
For autumn to be upon us,
Yet every breath I hear coming towards me
Leaves traces of my sadness
Rolling along to the tune of the trans-Canada
Like coyotes howling in the night
Reminding me you’re far away.
But I don’t want to say goodnight
I don’t want to wipe the tears
That cool my evening breeze,
I want to take back my endings
I never meant to write down
In a love poem I never meant to send,
No, I want to listen to the stars
Until connection has been made
And my back pockets hold bits of paper
Your pencils wrote to me.

Back Endings by Ned Tobin

The Ancient Sword That Stole Away With You (day 2195)

ned Leave a comment

If I could be the ancient sword
That stole away with you
One waltz that takes us merrily
To the sea so free.
Each bond you felt that held you back
I’m your liberating sharp
Whimsically eager at your call
Lightly laying aside ageing leaves
Floating our minds upon the breeze.
For your sup I’d fix your cut
Sliced so fine, no toil to chide
A glass of wine to ease your mind
Relax upon my sturdy spine
Your head upon my shoulder.