Tag: Nature

Young Words

  There is a temporal space A frozen lake, where words From heated thoughts spill, Into symbols upon ice Slip, fall, even from sure palms   The stilled linear water Layered out into oval Fed by streams and sources Have been slowed By brave…

Running After The Rain

There have been times the rain abandoned me, Even though, the caress of clouds will always return I remember running in the forest, as I do now, after the rain The leaves left my clothing soaked.

The Waterfall (Portrait #6)

The train is always heard, cutting through waterfalls and springs. Only by standing close to the noise of water can the sound be heard. How does this waterfall speak? Each splash that ricochets off a rock looks the same as the one before. Each…

The Collision Of Paragraphs

  The heated horizon Produces an allure. My eyes follow its linear line, moving with the melodic narrative– There are other voices—here Where hills make outlines. Harmony is horizontal– A dialogic freeway. It is the rain That stops streets And plays with the oil…

The Fern (Portrait #5)

This stream is the coldest my hands have ever touched. If there is a bottom to its shallowness, I can’t find it. The water seems so damned clear, too clear. I think I should be able to see, but I can’t. It must be…

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Hands

  These lines in my Hands, Some say they can read them. Stories like hills speak through them A Dirt Embeds itself in my palms Deep inside the lines, I have rinsed with the coldest Water Over my opened Hand As more lines appear,…

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