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Giants
I walked in the empty fieldsand fell before the giants. Holding up the winter skytheir gaze met with fear. Laying in the snow and staring at the skyI wonder what being or energy keeps the balance and the motion, the systemand the path moving despite the tremendous odds, changes everywhere, and the chaosas humans continue…
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Winter Grass and Wind
The winter grass and wind sings her song. Ravens join the chorus. Returning to roots and origin. Lulled to sleep by the natural world.
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Home is our True Being
Home is not just where you live and return each evening. Home is that place we hold close in our hearts and in the dreams we wake from and try with endless energy to return to. Home is not where the hat is hung, but where our subconscious retreats during times of angst and when…
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Poem – Return
Returning to the fields where it all started so many years ago. It was here I decided which path I would take and to never look back, even when the sun falls and the fields are obscured with shadows and mist.
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Poem – Birth
In the beginning we come into this space as innocent beings fumbling around the empty fields stretching forever. We stare in wonder and with amazement as to the endless possibilities and the control we have of our life. Then something changes and the field begins to fill with objects and obstacles and where there was…
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Poem – Return
In the end, when this life becomes the next, we become the raw materials returned to earth only to rise and become the flowers of tomorrow.
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Poem – Across The Sea
Across the black sea I see nothing with these eyes and I stand here not as I see myself and not as I desire to be but as the being accepted by the water. Across the see littered with fragments I am but a whisper cast from mountain tops. I hope with every last shred…
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Poem – Layers
Why do I spend each weekend breaking sweet and back? What does each peeled layer represent? What am I looking for? Across the water lapping at my feet the land rises to the sky and the cliffs. I dream in color, I dream in green I smell warm pine and feel my skin burn as…
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Poem – What We Must Do
In the first light of day we head from the city into the greening forest filled with bird voices. We reached the bottom of the first hill when we stopped in our tracks – remains of a deer. For the 3rd time in the last three years, we have found the reamins of deer while…
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Poem for Northography – Tag
A response to the most recent writing prompt at Northography. http://www.northography.com/responses.php?stimulus_id=289 I returned to the fields of the childhood I left behind. Rows upon rows of corn stretching forever and above our heads as we ran looking behind, ahead all around; each stalk that moved could mean we were tagged, and our turn to chase each…