William Ricci

Tag: forest

  • Poem – Rain

    When my mind becomes scattered, when each of the thoughts I held in my core is lost to the wind, I seek out answers and resolutions from the natural world. On mornings when the grey sky covers the sun and the forest lives in its own green exterior, the cold air lays upon the skin,…

  • Poem – Across the Salted Plains

    Across the salted plains We watch the sun fall The moon rise The machines sleep. In dreams spaced by 100 years I see you on the highest peak Of the homeland we once Ruled together. I woke in the snow blanketed forest Facing the morning sky. Tenants of dreams fill each fiber and neuron, I…

  • Poem – Trees

    I see the trees touch the sky and I wonder what would happen if they disappeared and nothing was left holding up the universe.

  • Poem – Emerging

    Emerging from the forest through the last barrier of this life, beasts of the past intertwined with shadows roam through the open field playing out their purpose. Standing out of their way as I am a visitor passing to the next life. Crossing the field I am met by concrete and metal machines. Is this…

  • Poem – The Last Day in This Flesh

    The last time I exit the empty field, crossing over the still black water will be the last day in this flesh. On the other side the machines wait with steely patience where they have stood for years. When we next awaken from what seems like a dream we will be near the base of…

  • Poem – When the End Arrives

    When the end arrives I will be standing in the empty fields as the moon overtakes the sun and the shadows overtake the forest waiting for you.

  • Poem – Preparing

    I watch the sun fall into the earth and the forest retreat into the shadows. I watch ravens make one last flight this day and the fields consume the rising moon. I try to take hold of today and let go of tomorrow. But I know changes are near and that we are not alone.

  • Poem – Merging Scenes

    Evening clouds cross the open fields, consuming empty space and trees. We watch their fluid movements and changing colors as the sun sets. Each passing moment like snowflakes and we struggle to take all of this in.  

  • Poem – Light from Another Home, What Controls Each Dream

    Winter evening sky burns at the horizon as day falls into night. Eyes follow the black outlines of branches reaching toward heaven through the layered hues and scattered clouds until they stop at the single white point. I have seen you each night from the cement patio as the city quiets and the distant trains…

  • Poem – The Search

    The sound of metal scraping across rock strewn fields is not the imagination filling time with stories and distracting thoughts away from what appears to be inevitable. No, that really is the machines emerging from the dense forest. That is the machines rewiring fluid thoughts, adapting to the immediate environment while focusing on the assigned…