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Nature Introspection Poems | Nature Poems About Introspection

These Nature Introspection poems are examples of Nature poems about Introspection. These are the best examples of Nature Introspection poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

When the Sun Sets on Me

I wonder where I will be 
when the sun sets on me…
for if I were a flake of snow,
a dying breeze, or autumn leaf...
then I’d know.
I am but a blink of a father’s eye
desperate for answers to my words and rhymes
waiting for another world or God to intercede, 
in what may come or ever may be.

I wonder where I will be 
when the moon rises over me...
for if I were shadows in a cave,
a cricket, star, or ocean wave...
then I'd know.
I am but a drop of rain on a summer night
vaporizing where I fall and touch,
waiting for clouds and sky to again define me;
not knowing who I ever was or aimed to be.

If I am clay in my Maker’s hands…pliable, yielding, 
I wonder where my own will comes to end
and where His fingers start forming me
into the masterpiece He desires me to be.
All the answers dancing gracefully,
from omnipotence and my need to be free…

I wonder where I’ll be, when I start to 
speak, live, breathe, dance….fearlessly.
If I were air and sea, with all of Heaven shining on me,
then, I’d know…    

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

Details | Verse | |

Who Am I

I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend

I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies 
through speaking my thoughts into existence

I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance 
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen

I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery 
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry

I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards

I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels

I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent  of it

I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
Judge that

I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?

Copyright © humble b

Details | Free verse | |

Dancing Bird - with video link   Dancing Bird

Yesterday, I saw a shadow dart across my keyboard.
When I turned to look outside the window, 
I spied upon a sparrow playing in the sun.
He was dancing in dramatic fashion 
Across the shrubbery that was his home.
I could tell it was a male by his markings.
He was busy with his boasting, and proud.
No longer a fledge, he fluffed his feathers
To parade his prowess to all that might adore him. 
Then, he pivoted into a pirouette, and pranced
Most skillfully across the length of a branch
And launched himself into flight.  

Today, the sounds of birds cackling and chirping
Inside the shrubbery drew me to the window.
I could see three sparrows engaging in some fun and frolic.  
Perhaps it was some flirtatious mating ceremony. 
While most sparrows do look alike,
I’m sure that one of them was the dancing bird
I’d seen the day before.  I watched briefly and smiled,
Remembering my own courtship and rivals
Who would fancy my choice as their own.
I returned to the monitor and before I could begin 
My work, there was a loud thud upon the glass.
I gazed outside and there upon the ground was a small hawk
Clutching the dancer in his talons. 

Tomorrow, this bird will not dance.
He will not sing or court another.
And as sparrows are many,
I will no doubt find another to enjoy from this vantage.
I chide myself for failing to warn him of the danger.
I was too busy with my own enjoyment to notice.
Now, I close my eyes and reconstruct those moments
As I attempt to resurrect the dancing bird,
And preserve him....forever.

Copyright © Ray Dillard

Details | Free verse | |

Beauty in my Palm

You are the wild flower in my palm
With no stem to keep you anchored to this covetous earth
You are the fragile thing I dare not cup,
As your petals whittle away under the wind
And flit unfettered in the air;
Exaggerated fear leaves my fingers numb
Hungry need leaves my fingers twitching
And my hand is paralyzed by turmoil
As every breath of wind takes another petal from me
And brings to my lungs, my chest and my heart
An overwhelming scent of need-

You are the wild beauty in my palm
And I dare not hold you to my chest
For I fear to crush you
To know first hand
That caged beauty, is beauty no more.

Copyright © Samir Georges

Details | I do not know? | |


are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
my spine

Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty 
about what tomorrows
pain may bring

They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
illumination. glistening
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best

Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide

Ready to Receive
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
my spine

My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
does bring
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers

For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine

Copyright © Heather Hill

Details | Free verse | |

Children of the Divine Wind

Many times the ocean has saved Nippon, pearl of the sea, an oceanic symbiosis a speck in a fecund see. The dikes of man such miniscule plans to hold back the tide. The throngs, each and all crawl across the thin skin of volcanic soil or rise with in the hump-backed alps of remnant cones. Yet, the sea rises to reclaim its own scour the pallet of man, refine, burnish melt, reform. With pen and sword kanji drawn, samurai born with knife and bone entrails torn, honor tested tested by the hand of He, tested and found worthy. The children of the Divine Wind rise above the tsunami, as one, unbowed.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Sonnet | |

Respecting the Universe

A listening sky overhead,
hears whispers of our words, unsaid.
And though, sometimes, we feel alone,
that mere existance matters not,
or that one life will be forgot,
a chain links us to the unknown.
A listening sky overhead,
hears whispers of our words, unsaid.

We are a part of earth and sky,
as one with nature, when we die.
And though, sometimes, we feel alone,
a chain links us to the unknown.
A listening sky overhead,
hears whispers of our words, unsaid.

For Dr. Ram's Contest: Sonnetino Rispetto "Respect"

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |

Secrets of the Stream

~ Impatient, are the waters, that ripple in the stream Taking no notice of one all alone They continue to flow, to swirl, twist and turn They pay no attention, think nothing of me As I sit here to ponder, to write and compose ~ Deep in the stones, lie dark secret longings Old stories of those, who sat on the bank Like me, finding hallows to gather and think I'm called by the breezes to capture the prose Inspired by nature, words flow from creation Written to cast, like leaves on the water ~ The cattails that rattle, the cinnamon fern The willows that lean, each twig bends to listen Before me, were others who sat in the sun On the mossy green bank of the waters that know... Watching each ripple from precipice high With stories, of heartache, and reasons to cry ~ Cavorting blue ribbons, hiding the answers Splashing and laughing, no time for my questions I lean my hand over, to calm the swift partings Cold water runs swiftly, and it stays in command It runs through my fingers, like life on a journey Secrets it carries, and onward it goes… Taking no notice of one all alone ~

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Cowboy | |

Intelligent Design

You think you’re alone out on the range
Sittin’ silent under starry sky,
Just a marvelin’ at the universe
And wonderin’ ‘bout that ol’ question: why?

You shake your head at worlds of worry,
Knowin’ it ain’t often that you’ll find,
All the answers to your queries
Beneath the clear black sky and pine.

You wonder if we rose up from mud
And walked straight and tall upon this earth—
Or was it all created in a moment—
A conception that gave us true birth.

Are we all no more than those monkeys
Evolvin’ slowly down life’s long line?
Or is there more to earth and heaven
Touched by something truly sublime?

We keep on punchin’ clocks and cattle
And tryin’ to get through each new morn—
But is there more to life than dyin’
And will we somehow be reborn?

All the cattle know my hard proddin’
As I lead them along time’s sad way—
We live for but a flashin’ moment,
As we watch life go by in one short day. 

So make the best of trails you ride, cowboy—
Each tomorrow is both yours and mine—
And gaze long at stars in that vast sky
Placed there by intelligent design.

Copyright © Glen Enloe

Details | Free verse | |

Sitting with the Moon

I will sit on the porch, with the August moon
      The old swing sways, with a sleepy croon
         ... softly humming to make me smile                                *
                        In soothing rhythm, all the while
                            while shadowed moonlight knows our tune

A lonely owl, and then a lark,
    calls out to me, within the dark
          Starlight glistens, this peaceful night,
                      while the moon and I,  together, listen                                   *

How softly evening whispers twirl, and stir the branches in the breeze
   The falling leaves around me curl,
                            to fall asleep beneath the trees

I'll make a wish, and close my eyes
          and drink the splendid moonlit night

            I will sit with the moon for awhile....
                 while keeping me company, with its gentle light....

      *                              *          

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Rhyme | |

Surround Sound

As the sun tinges the horizon
A pale shade of rose
Beauty touches the slate gray sky
White canvas painted exposed

Surround sound of Dove's voices
Coos echo on all sides
Roosters' fill in the deep bass sound
Mockingbirds' tone abides

All song birds in chorus sing out
on this still quiet morn
Melodies lift above trials
As the Doves' song is born  

There's that stillness saying wait
Rest before one of life's storms
The Holy Spirit does comfort
In my heart there's His form

No matter what life's trials present
The Comforter is there
Like the assurance of a daily
Sunrise no need to despair

As the orange sun glows like embers
Through the silhouetted trees
Thoughts run to the Savior's anguish
Who did so much for me

He made this awesome provision
The gift of the Comforter
Just reach out and touch the Savior
He's the great Affirmer

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Rhyme | |

Message of Departure

I will watch their winged endurance, on the crest of autumn's eve, without knowing where or distance, but in faith they must believe As the harsh breath sounds of winter are calling geese to leave I will hear songs of assurance, gliding low against the breeze I can hear inherent partings, as they form into a V And they soothe my doubtful worry, as they fly the crimson sea Lifting eyes, I follow upward, as they cluster into line With necks stretched long and southbound, departing with a sigh With constant proof, year after year, their calling fills my ears Sent here by the grace of God, in a race against my fear While their promised songs may sadden me, and tears to eyes will bring Their steadfast return assures my heart, to believe tomorrow's spring "Doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith."

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |

Wondrous Kite

She walks away.

Girlish and glorious
through air
like a kite on a string
that pulls
tautly slipping through tightened fingers,
burning a little,
and slicing through 
if ever left unattended,

so preciously tensioned
against the cold

Tears begin to flow
but I do not know . . .
my heart?
or the wind?
If my heart, then am I sad
to be here on the ground
or joyful
to be watching the kite

In answer, a quivering.

A wisp.

"She will not fall or float away while I hold her thus. 
She will be beautiful for me."


Copyright © Jonathon Paarlberg

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Words From A River

Impatient, the river, no time for submission Taking no notice of one all alone It continues to flow, to swirl, twist and turn It pays no attention, thinks nothing of me As I sit here to ponder, to write and compose. Deep in the stones, lie dark secret longings Old stories of those, who sat on the bank Like me, finding hallows to gather and think I'm called by the river to capture the prose Inspired by nature, words flow from creation Written to cast, like leaves on the water The cattails that rattle, the cinnamon fern The willows that lean, each twig bent to listen Before me, were others who sat in the sun On the mossy green bank of the river that knows... Many secrets it carries....and onward it goes Taking no notice of one all alone...
____________________________________________________________ Carrie Richards submitted for Giorgio's Contest: Impress Me (nature)

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |


Midfall and nearly all the trees
Stand brown as broken sticks
Against a sky of impossible blue
And I in shirtsleeves a-walking go,
With love and longings my companions
Kicking through the drifts of colored shards
Fallen with another Summer's stealthy fading
Feeling and marveling at this piece of heat
That dropped unnoticed from her pocket.

I could believe today
In an America unnamed,
A place full of wild things and untamed peoples
A place where Spirit spreads
To ride the clouds
And sing its songs unhindered.

Nature has let down her locks today;
And who will look on her
And let themselves be consumed, entranced
By the beauty that lives on in spite of our assaults -
Who will be distracted by the miracles we move through,
Feel the surge of the sea of life all around us,
Hear the whispered prayers
In the windsigh of the sleeping trees
And watch the night come on
Announced by the rose glow behind the thumbnail moon -
Who will stand amid such things,
And not put aside for the moment
Those little cares we circumscribe our lives with,
And stand amazed to be here breathing,
Alive to feel how loving-close
Infinity holds us and claims us for its own;
Surely, not I alone.

I rest a hand on my sleeping child's chest;
Feel the heart fluttering beneath the skin
And I can sense a great wheel turning.

I wander out in the still warm darkness 
That follows this day,
To look up at the starstrewn sky
And see that great wheel begin its turning,
And stand amazed to be here breathing.

And stand, amazed to be.

Copyright © William Masonis

Details | Rhyme | |

I Took Myself Walking

I took myself walking the other day,
not far from the city's decay

A small patch of solitude beckoned to me,
'til I came to take rest,by the old stump of a tree.

Sure I took myself walking and alone here I sit,
disgusted with life and close to a fit.

With face cupped in hands and eyes a-staring out straight,
I thought to myself, "What will be my fate?"

Self-pity had just about taken it's toll,
when that old stump piped up, with the voice of my soul.

"Look here young fella,what's got you so low?"
"Life's got me defeated', I said kinda slow.

"Life's got you defeated--just look what I've got,
a face charred by fire and a heart full of rot.

I've got critters chewing me inside and out,
and I'm darned close to dying,there is little doubt.

But am I discouraged?--not on your life.
I've served a good purpose, with my offspring and wife".

And looking around, what should I see,
but hundreds of saplings and another old tree.

"We've given the earth much more than we've taken,
if you do the same, you won't be forsaken.

Just go back and face life with it's ups and it's downs.
Back to your life in cities and towns.

But come back again, if you feel yourself slippin',
If more people went walking, there'd be less of them flippin'.


Copyright © Richard Manly

Details | Sonnet | |

Spring And Sunlight Wrap This Heavenly View

Spring And Sunlight Wrap This Heavenly View

Slowly I climb that very steep and rocky hill,
seeking the beautiful summit so far above.
As a breeze sends me that cool pleasant chill,
far away echoes, sweet calls of morning dove.

Summit reached, burden was greatly reduced,
as I saw great flowery meadows unfurled.
This the beauty God magnificently produced,
one of his many fine gifts to this world.

Spring and sunlight wrap this Heavenly view,
in a sheen invading my searching soul.
Each visit, I find feelings serene and new
relieving me of dark world's heavy toll.

Thus I battle with dark and unknown gloom.
By entering Nature's gifted wilderness room.

Robert J. Lindley, 09-24-2015

Note: I just felt the need to write a sonnet this morn.
Thus from my memory this new poem was born from
a place that I once visited quite often.

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Ballade | |

I love rain

I love rain

It's a month now into spring
And still the rain pours down
Hey, is it ever going to end
There's many here that frown
They want the sunny weather
That will come soon enought
But right now, I'm enjoying it
Rain, I love the stuff.

Next week we're off on holiday
Now it really does rain there
And I'll love very bit of it
As it soaks up everywhere
To hear it's rhythm on the roof
It makes me feel so grand
Though many think that I am strange
They just don't understand

We don't get much rain in WA
So when it comes,  for me
It makes me so excited
I guess it's how i be
So keep that rain a coming down
Let me feel it's soft, wet touch
I don't know what is wrong with me
But I love rain so much.

23 September 2013 @ 0624hrs

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Free verse | |

An Early, Experimental Poem of Alternate Lines

The mirror reflects, obliquely,
a peculiar yellow butterfly -- it flutters, flutters
the specks of black my beard is made of
on the breeze.  A daffodil hangs down its treasure
and I spread shaving cream, in great white puffs,
shielding from the wind and rain its yellow
across my face.  The nose protrudes, ridiculous
excrescence.  A leaf half green sweeps up in circles
in the whiteness all around.  A weak chin, think I,
of windy sighs.  Squirrels crack acorns, crunching,
down into a patchy neck.  Very unsatisfactory
remembering winter's almost famine.  The trees --
appearance.  Altogether so.  Oh well.
Quiet.  Steady.  Sturdy.  Oh well.
The mirror reflects, but not uniquely.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Couplet | |

The Homeplace

Here further down the hillside slope
Down close to the creek with hope

My husband bought a house, land
Fenced in and made many plans

Subdued the land to cow pasture
And planted a garden, fruit trees sure

Fathered another child to call him sir
The creek seemed to like the stir

Enjoyed the children for a little while___
Loved them so that it made her smile

Today she loves grandchildren the same
No girls there are in frills ___tame

The creek keeps on flowing to the sea
The land is mostly stripped of trees

(This is my adaptation of Robert Frost's poem "The Birthplace".  I hope that it does not insult 
his work.)

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Narrative | |

A World on Fire

We live today in a world of great tumult
And of rising uncertainty and anxiety 
Which pervade the world stage like a cancer

Despite soaring technological advances
Our environment and our home Earth
Are bearing an unimaginable burden

People are wondering what must be done
To right these wrongs and adjust our course
Before we turn the corner to “No Return”

Tyranny, Poverty, Disease, and War 
Are still with us today since the beginning
Of time and are mankind’s greatest shame

God may be with us intellectually
But mankind must be self-reliant
To survive an inattentive, distant deity

People see answers to these enigmas
Sounds are made, echoes are heard
But nothing comes back in response

Frustration reigns supreme for many 
Fear and anxiety multiple all concerns
There can never be easy answers


Tyranny still reigns alive in many countries
As the actions of tin-eared dictators abound
And are on ample display for all to see 

Poverty is still a shameful, terrible curse
Which afflicts the most unfortunate
And is paid lip service by the wealthy

Disease is a scourge still in our world
And still felt by those most in need
And never enough is done to change this

War is the ultimate insult to mankind
And its wide-felt swath and affliction
Plagues yet our modern, enlightened world 

What to make of all these challenges
Is not easy for any of us to digest
And let alone understand why

Yet understand, comprehend we must
If we want a better world for all to live in
A Sisyphean task at its very best

Man still holds the key to make change
Positive and real for our troubled Earth
But can it ever be really so in the end

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, 
Schoeningen, Germany (October 16, 2014) 
(Tercet unrhymed poetic format)

Copyright © Gary Bateman

Details | Free verse | |

The Cost of Water

Flight of stillness;

Ladders point up
but they say the ground is greater;
sunlight knitting to their brown feet green socks.
They crestfall and
buckle at the knee.

Hear guts clap thunder off somewhere else
but no storm in sight to maitre d' this mesa;

got to rot the mud lest 
an urge to ripen ripens.

But hear now
the locusts flood this rut,
hunt for want,
         impelled to eat each lunch of your decay.

         Earth uncorks her pores.
you drift upon the grass, lift the damp from the sod
like a pillow of cloud sopping Earth's steam-
         to be made the steward of this land;
flash! ladders
Pay in full the cost of water,
less labors not yet lost.

Copyright © Andrew Gallagher

Details | Rhyme | |


My Lord, you are the Poet,
Who notes me with thy strong hands.
I can only aspire to know it 
And extend thy word to all known lands.

You have set in me for the sun
A tabernacle for his regal throne,
From which he arises for his daily run
Throughout heaven's every zone.

Each morn I await his excellent ascent.
Onward with his golden lamp of God,
He begins at one end of the firmament
And runs on with the light of Aaron's rod.

Copyright © Albert Price

Details | Couplet | |

The Lull

I seek the lull--
To feel the tranquility of the night
The hush of birds in calm respite
The quiet compose of ancient trees
The muted hymn on dulcet breeze
On quiescent ridge of nocturne quest
Find soothing balm on angel’s breath.
Abeyant mind, free of hurt or qualm
Opens to Christ when faith is strong
Fearfully reached to touch a lightning rod
But found instead, the hand of God.

Copyright © Michelle Mac Donald

Details | Free verse | |

Zest of Limes

I live where
lime trees bloom
before spring has come,
where early unattended fruit
drop from the trees...
I gather some
in a silver metal bowl
and place them on a table.
These green and yellow limes
are round, redolent, with a clean
citrus flavor.  I squeeze one,
release its oils, and rub my hands
with wringing motions,
cover my nose to breathe
the fresh, clean scent --
and marvel, once again,
how such simplicity
can cheer me.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore

Details | Haiku | |


Hushed, quiet and still
the forest revives my soul
   I  remember me.

for Raul Moreno's
Solace in Nature contest

Copyright © Trudy Diane Rider

Details | Lyric | |

The Old Homestead

Orphaned footsteps round the old place.
Pitch black soil, packed deep with bartered
coin and Indian heads – wood and otherwise,

coat her worn leather shoes, Hutterite chic. 
The long land screams within its own silence.
Prairie sage burns somewhere, a ghostly smudge

for the undulating grass and, those it serves.
Its alive scent makes the dead turn towards 
its head - and the barely living turn to listen. 

The impossibly endless horizon holds its bright 
blue at bay, begging acknowledgement for 
its self-professed being and looming enormity.

She looks at the broken window glass and 
through the tattered, delicate gray lace. “Those 
were hers.” She whispers to the one who listens. 

This great-great-granddaughter sees the curtains 
as they once were – wistful in the hot Manitoba 
wind; fresh and lowing with the honest elemental 

scent of aspens, hope and bare-knuckle wash boards; 
always fresh; shifting in the cry for solace in summer 
shadows – never as still as this moments endlessness.

Blowing through the deep brown of splintered pine 
front doors; cracking the announcement of cast iron, 
rot and burnt wood comes the simple statement of – 

I lived. This mother of five young does not cry, 
just yearns to walk in the old ones footsteps;
to know them loved; hear the birdsong through

unbroken bedroom windows for a 5am waking; 
feel the resistance of dough on fingers that beg 
to be broken, and kiss the twisting undead, living. 

The burning of the noonday sun taps her whole,
marking; branding her pale Swedish skin its own.
The red sting of burnt breaks her inward silence, 

welcoming her familiar face home.

© Kristin Reynolds 3 29 2009

*Reposted for John's Summer Celebration Contest. This is a personal celebration; 
celebrating and honoring my great grandparents who settled in Manitoba after leaving 
Sweden and Denmark. This celebrates the summer of family, at least for me. We went there 
every summer until it was gone...

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds

Details | Free verse | |

Black Diamond Night

Black Diamond Night

Life is a cruel wench, a beckoning tramp, she is.
 Sprawling wide open to draw us into her erotic nectar.
 She whispers lurid words which promise to forestall
 The imminent erosion, of illusionary perfection.

The promise of a tomorrow? Few have the inherent structure,
 To challenge her guile, humming quiet, sweet victory.
 Only the ancient one, who hides beneath our vision,
When wrenched from the rock, is still perfect in her imperfection.

Dawn loses its battle to dusk, and returns again to be defeated
 In an endless, biblical battle. The waves wash up on the shore
Wrenching the sands from pounded beaches; only to spew up
 Again and be dumped ashore by the evenings rushing tides.

I lie on my back, on a beach, gazing up at dark stars,
On this black diamond night, sadly, wiser.

Brenda  Molmod  Atry  8/14/2012

Copyright © Brenda Atry

Details | Rhyme | |

The Moonlight Shadow

Once upon a gloomy night
Stars and fireflies a bit apart
Moonlight shadow so bright.

Mysterious figures appeared before my eyes
Oh I can't imagine I was staring with chills
It was the first time I witnessed those apparitions

What an experience to be treasured
It changed my life, dreams, and mind
Even today the vision still vivid.

Copyright © marvin celestial

Details | Lyric | |

The Season Inside

Its beauty yet again plunders me, 
Into magnificent realms that hide
Deep within my every thought
Where I ,like a new tenant, 
Seek comfort to reside
In the warm abodes of Winter.

It has come yet again
With its white painted sky
Like a dripping white towel
Whose waters slowly subside
Like a pain that has been eluded,
Avoided, denied

Its gusts that blow across 
The many prolonging miles 
Bringing all windows to shudder
Like lost whispers and voices
Found and compiled
Into a vague resonance.

Its unmelted snow
That at every corner lies
Lingering for the tepid
Sun of Spring to rise 
To melt away
Like an unwanted memory.

And all that it holds
Is but a fraction that glides
A sheer reflection of the world 
The snow, wind and rain of
The season inside

Copyright © farah chamma