Open Poetry #29 |
Timbers of our Souls |
LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
Tones startling in clarity, eager, pure with Redundancy of tones, to escort harmonious effects Nature speaks deity’s expressions, in this meticulous dialect Having a preference for a particular order Sometimes a somewhat harsh design, being in accord With all things, may at times… Find you orphaned for awhile, offering modest relief But in ocean waves, there is a pale shine of eye white As if an all seeing, watches over things Looking on the best and worst of mankind With weary compassion… Yet sage advice, like a mill wheel spilling its consignment of mist, Spraying into the tailrace…where souls begin There are great odds between the colors of nature And the hardness of hearts, touching us uniquely as diamonds in the ruff Like we were a thing requiring great tenderness, sanctity Though the daily toll might exact…in it’s own time and routine Great fringes of foliage spiritually all around, Dizziness weaving the echoes of our minds Like all brave phrases of hymns, executing a welcomed arch Blossoming rhododendrons stand in impressed cerulean granite Mingling crisp beyond the normal, Pressing two fingers against this constant place Mere fragments flare, looking up eternally through a wilderness From a forgotten unseen race, memorializing the darkest events of history We fight a battle, to ward off invaders, despite the padding of with drawl Our hearts focused, many wide crags to be ventured & crossed Shaping the new remembrance of a fiddler’s proportions with his bow Soft and shaped so that when they cool, they dry to form smooth curves With freehand inside the images of quest From a mystic discipline, at arm’s length Wrapping ourselves in the makings of nature’s ground cloth Robes as pilgrims seeking direction when walking in from the rain In our one room cabins of squared timbers Set above the road, where we mingle stellar As volunteers recognizing these gestures of informational code We feel it, and know it’s there Where ever polished metal turns to rust, We see the round side of the breast of nature, full and luminous Returning to the hearth of our thresholds Good Morning Everyone, and Happy Monday to you All |
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© Copyright 2003 Lee J. - All Rights Reserved | |||
Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
Oh, this is the result of a fullmoon burn in the woods for sure! BRAVO!! I'll keep this and read it again and again. BTW, your mist imagery is superb! |
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
LeeJ My dear I think we have a classic here. Well done. |
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