Tag: red

Silhouetted Cacti (day 2172)

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I will be the sun dripping
Down legs of golden heroes

I will be the crumbling dirt
Amidst each footstep, counted

I will be the wings soaring
To each ebb and matching flow

I will be the wandering nomad
Caught in effortless migration

I will be the passion building
Spring cannot be stopped

I will be the hours breathing
While a hand rests, exhausted

I will be the knot tied
Alert silhouetted cacti

I will be the red ball
Dipped into old red wine

I will be the front porch song
For each moment you are my anchor.

I Really Want To (day 2155)

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I really want to
I really feel like finding the motivation inside,
To reach out and scream,
To run until my lungs are burning
And life’s pain ceases to hinder me.
I want to jump and swing
And yell like a charging elephant
With my eyes glaring down
Doers of injustice.
I want to slam my fists in to walls
And flip over tables that seem impossibly immobile
Tearing down pictures
Smashing plates and pottery.

I really feel like seeing red,
But then I remember how delicately precious
Life’s wings are
As I watch a bird fly by,
As I catch the sun setting
Leaving behind a gentle golden gradient
Filling my eyes and heart
Until my inhale matches my exhale
And my toes tingle happily at peace.

OK, Lovely (day 1469)

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Ok, lovely,
Choose a delicate dance
With sitars, tablas
And magical finger symbols
To gaze upon at request.
Choose a fine hearted view,
Wobbling blue birds
And squabbling hens.
Choose elaborate decor,
Gray walls with fancy lace,
Antlers painted gold,
Desire painted red.
Choose heart,
For nothing else matters.

Ashhram Day 15 (day 1418)

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Gaia woke today, lazily,
Spread her wings in stretch.
She reached and yawned
Until the moon
Came upon her back.
From here she exposed
Her underbelly –
A welcoming of sorts,
To which the joys
Could be heard
Echoing across the land.
And as the dancing
Round and round
Began to reach climax,
Her sister, the sun,
Waved goodnight
Her dress trailing along.
Through the gates,
Past the edge,
Along the well worn path,
Until Gaia’s eyes
Turned a fiery red
And she reclined to bed.

Thorn (day 1261)

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I once laid my eyes upon
An autumn so yellow and red,
That spoke to me of Monarchy;
The golden days of ol’.
Here I tarried a while
Pondering on the past,
Only to find, as I divined,
I had been transformed into a lord
Who had about, in glorious splendor,
A thousand man devoted train.
But to my alarm,
And quite disarming,
I hadn’t a desire to call mine own.
So my yawn was feigned,
My brow was fanned,
And of my rose was left a thorn.

Mid-Autumn (day 1247)

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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.