ways of wind

the whispers from the wind to the trees are sweet
unto the mountains it sings of love to their peaks
upon the ocean it embraces the waves that go by
have you felt the wind kiss only your cheeks
has it ever grabbed your hand and led you home
for you my dear I would be the wind to oppose the tempest
to steady the tide and clear the stormy nocturnal sky
I shall be the wind upon the everlasting shore
My dearest I shall be that which you have made me and more

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laugh

A score of woe I wrote unto the scripts of passing tides
That which I wrote was a ligature around my soul
As passing leaves throughout the forest yet no trees
Still I cannot see, I must feel for I am human
yet I feel little and when I do it is too soon
to soon before the dream evaporates in a kaleidoscope stream
however the passing movement goes by enveloping time
it seems as though I have stepped from the cog wheels
now I have no perception of time as though a clock smith looking in
observing the going on of a time piece yet not realizing it’s his life
each passing day feels the same and all I can do is laugh
for if I felt what this notion of my interior resembled in emotion
I really don’t think I would still be here
yet I laugh for my separation of life has given mine back to me
a sense of enlightenment or just the saving grace of cynicism

howling

a silhouette of passion’s tinder kiss
a dawning of dusk yet radiant light
a pulsating want of illuminating must
what I feel for is a thousand winds
beating upon a door of my heart
my being stripped of use but only to cry for you
a howl of temp I cry avalanching the peaks of the night
yet my passions I bridle to subside for thee are only a dream
that walks through the remaining of the light

of the inspired

A reflection through a prism of glass
in the imagination of the water lily
and through a thought it goes home
into the mind of a passerby trolling near the pond
it toils unto its new abode finally to be heard
and through the imagination becomes a manifestation
once it leaves via the actions of the inspired

the lily and the feild

I once was a mad lily in the ever green fields between two trees
How I once grew through the loam of earth to reach for the sky
A color so radiant and a vanity I boast of my being
I wake with sun and drink in the dew yet the sun was later with each passing day
And thus I wilted in the nearing end of summer beckoning fall
Hitherto I knew not what I would be once my final pedal and steam fell
I awoke in a womb of a doe that laid within a forest near a brook
As I came through the world had scared me and the light I once knew became new
I grew with mother and ken in the fields that once were
I grew mighty and tall and even my velvet was brilliant as before my antlers grew
I knew well that I could be taken from this earth and laid to rest to feed another
For I knew this well for I now eat the lilies of the field
Yet it is age that grabs me to my final resting place thus I go
And the scavengers take what time had not
Finally I am taken by the earth to become the loam for the lilies of the field

fool am I

a thousand wishes upon the sea,
star light given unto a beckoning widow of the hills which once were,
hallowed prayer of my forgotten being,
let it be me,
have thou loved thus been forgotten have ye sought thus been lost,
for the seamstress of the tapestry has laid the way unto you
have you not seen that which compels only the lowly men,
for he that planed the valley and erected the hills
had trekked before you to not be lost
yet we are blind from the sight of our own image,
dare I say I am the greatest fool of them all.