Findings

What better place than in the woods
Branches swaying in the breeze
Poems etched on rustling leaves
Fall to be found.

Branches swaying in the breeze
Clothed in mottled orange green
Fall to be found
In the songs left behind.

Clothed in mottled orange green
Silhouettes seen walking
In the songs left behind
Where poets go gathering.

Poems etched on rustling leaves
Silhouettes seen walking
Where poets go gathering
What better place than in the woods.

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Vale

Pearly gray mists shroud the mountain
An eerie silence blankets trees
Ghostly trunks and branches creak
Breaking the stillness strangely.

An eerie silence blankets trees
Tearing rents through thick fog
Breaking the stillness strangely
The veiled one taps her stick.

Tearing rents through thick fog
One milky eye turns, the other hidden
The veiled one taps her stick
There’s a thinning in the air.

Ghostly trunks and branches creak
One milky eye turns, the other hidden
There’s a thinning in the air
Pearly gray mists shroud the mountain.

Oh Freedom!

He’s a prisoner in a Mercedes Benz
Though he doesn’t know it
His jailer is the State of Mind
He’s the poorest man I know.

Though he doesn’t know it
There’s more to Man than a full wallet
He’s the poorest man I know
Though he doesn’t’ show it.

There’s more to Man than a full wallet
Peace doesn’t live in possessions
Though he doesn’t show it
He’s starving despite degrees.

His jailer is the State of Mind
Peace doesn’t live in possessions
He’s starving despite degrees
He’s a prisoner in a jalopy.

Origins

From a small seed begins life
Cracked open in the dark damp ground
Strong roots send up strong shoots
Reaching for the light.

Cracked open in the dark damp ground
Curled up full of possibility
Reaching for the light
Slowly unfolding peacefully.

Curled up full of possibility
Branches stretch toward the sky
Slowly unfolding peacefully;
An ancient tree dreaming.

Strong roots send up strong shoots
Branches stretch toward the sky
An ancient tree dreaming
From a small seed begins life.

Interweave

Yesterday I gathered wool

Granny wove, once upon a time,

With sundried grass and husks of gold,

Vines of honeysuckle and grape, fresh to behold.

 

Granny wove, once upon a time,

Sitting ramrod straight on the gleaming oak floor

She was fresh to behold, circled with vines

Deftly shaped by her strong and supple fingers.

 

Sitting ramrod straight on the gleaming oak floor

She serenely wove this precious gift,

Deftly shaped by her smooth fingers,

A basket filled with dreams.

 

She serenely wove this precious gift

With sundried grass and husks of gold

A basket shaped for dreams;

Today I filled it with peas.