Unfinished
April 24th 2008 01:30
the love of God on a Spring morning
silent prayers in the mist
moving stones in the desert
and still the moon is full
and still the world is waking
and still the dawn comes
ice clouds in a furrowed sky
and still it disappoints
pushing petaled paths neath arbored blows
ah the allergies of Spring the joys of it
walking scented paths through glades of wonder
fist full of pink blossoms clinging tightly to a brown branch
death of a river
coagulated course choked with stones.
remembering the flames of Augusts as the autumn trees caught fire
and of a fire in the hills as the setting sun set mountain top clouds ablaze
cool fire swept the earth burned away was green or even just mundane and for a few brief moments
made the world anew
there are places wherein looks cluttered,
as though someone forgot to take out the trash
then winter or a lightning started forest fire comes,
and all that trash gets taken out
autumn fires in still waters
Thunderheads over the badlands speaking of rain that will not come this day
silent prayers in the mist
moving stones in the desert
and still the moon is full
and still the world is waking
and still the dawn comes
ice clouds in a furrowed sky
and still it disappoints
pushing petaled paths neath arbored blows
ah the allergies of Spring the joys of it
walking scented paths through glades of wonder
fist full of pink blossoms clinging tightly to a brown branch
death of a river
coagulated course choked with stones.
remembering the flames of Augusts as the autumn trees caught fire
and of a fire in the hills as the setting sun set mountain top clouds ablaze
cool fire swept the earth burned away was green or even just mundane and for a few brief moments
made the world anew
there are places wherein looks cluttered,
as though someone forgot to take out the trash
then winter or a lightning started forest fire comes,
and all that trash gets taken out
autumn fires in still waters
Thunderheads over the badlands speaking of rain that will not come this day
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