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.
Tag: orange
Arc Beams Vision (day 3020)
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.
Colours of Autumn (day 2941)
Green, yellow, brown
Orange, lime
Gray, black
Ode to Coming Autumn (day 2690)
Your heart surely has emerged
Red, brown, orange seeds and grass
Each tree within the meadow glows
Floating on so merrily
Out in front of me.
Just as I can float away
Happily upon a thought of day
Your vision emerges out of mind
A lofty plan ahead, awaits.
Each growing breath of air
Sent from a new direction – North
Blows with it’s reminder to
Tuck away scattered growth
Inevitability of coming Autumn
I’ll prepare for your impending store.
Ode to a Maple Tree (day 1758)
Dear Maple, so sweet
Your heart is my nectar
To warm on the cold days
To taste and to glow.
But that’s not all
Of your marvelous fall,
For yellows and browns
And greens and oranges
And burgundies and maroons
And suns golden hues
Shall greet me in splendor
From your largest of limbs
From your gloriously iconic leaves
And float to the ground
In a rain of pure gold
For all to behold
And bow to your throne.
And in spring
When your life shall return
I anxiously watch each blossoming bud
Counted with pure delight
From the ground where I await
In the birth of your spread
In the mirth of your stead
And smile
As I enjoy what beautiful view
Always awaits by your thick
And porous and clunky trunk.
Safety Net (day 1471)
My safety net has developed holes,
It’s begun to sink with rising tides
That are bringing plastics and driftwood
Into the already discombobulated foray
Of pinks, greens, oranges, and dust.
My dental-floss fixes promote algae
In places I don’t want algae.
Is this growth?
Have I become burdened with my own safety
To the point I’m now over my neck
And flailing for life?
Is this harmonious with progress,
Or is this the definition of distraction?
I recognize I’m becoming dizzy.
Mid-Autumn (day 1247)
In mid-autumn I enjoy how sun flares,
And in it’s wildest most passionate moments
It doesn’t have the all consuming power
The mid-summer sun has.
A t-shirt with an easy breeze you’re not yearning for.
Humility; knowing that in a few short months
The green-green vibrancy will explode
With red-orange-brown
That brings out mom’s hand-made mittens
And warm cups of tea.
Fly Southward (day 878)
Audible melodies yell out to me
From browns and yellows and oranges
And decay coiling around the forest floor
Waltzing in a downward spiral
Escaping grasping tops of trees
Shedding for coming seasons
And Orchard grass spreading seedlings
About the popular field surrounding
Swept about by gusting winds
Tickling the noses of passing strangers
While squirrels burrow deeper
Birds fly southward
And sun sets earlier
Semi-Opaque White (day 867)
This is me sinking into the glass that’s empty
Subtle tones flickering off the semi-opaque sides
Autumn yellows and oranges from incandescent bulbs
With smiling faces shifting about the vacant spaces
Of this safe-room-white walled habitation
I was wrong when I sang your song with my sad heart
A slow beating heart like footsteps in the snow
Alone in winter’s paradise
Holding your cold hand as the glass set to stone
And too, by then the glass was empty of mischief
Labelled fun by the secret-book-black marker
That always lay beside your handy-dad bed
Wedding-dress-white sheets and matching pillows
And I was sad about falling through this time
When my step moved with falling’s grace
I was sad about falling alone without you
An early-morning-fog around my empty glass windows
For I’ll keep you satisfied if I took the time
Forever and always inside the skeleton of an empty glass
Sliding down steamed windows
Labeled Heart with stapled messages
Damp autumn orbs of wind blown tears
Settling on semi-opaque sides of window’s emptiness
Emptying my heart and welcoming winter’s vacancies
Sinking into answers in white
Dead Leaves (day 847)
Strolls through the park now are filled with dead leaves
Dead leaves float down from shifting canopies
Deciduous trees slowly sway with mother earths soothing motion
Dead leaves blanket soiled paths laid through summer
A softening, deadening all sounds of scraping dirt
But shuffling along as I push forward
Dead leaves dance with discarded cones
Tossed away in haste during a squirrels preparation
Dead leaves share with me a full spectrum of browns
Reds, oranges, greens, purples, blacks
As they run the test of time separated from their lifeline
Dead leaves tell of turning seasons
Lazy summer indulging into autumns necessary storage
And clear nights turning into frosts morning
Dead leaves share with me the art of romance
Harmony in age
Holding hands with Mother Nature
As she guides the procession forward
