Oaks and Pines
Standing in succession with the winds
There is a lightness in the air of the lush greens.
Different shades change the scene yet not the mood.
They dance side to side in a calming waltz.
They flow at ease into the end of day.
Neither strange nor familiar they remain,
To be home not only tot he creatures that be.
But to the observers that see the beauty.
Away from the industrial mess that is
Away from its choking miasma of confusions.
Freeing in the dark of all things.
Feeling though the clouds of a daze.
Clearing the little bugs buzzing in the mind.
Seeking to repair and release today's built up steam,
Cause here we come and greet the experience.
Walking along we find the needs of late.
Isolated from the voices of hate.
Staying still the woods speaks of peace.
Breath clears all the muddle, all the weirdness.
Become aware of all there is to feel.
Forever remain attached yet unattached
To the ones that gave trueness.
In light of all things a fly is still a fly,
To the ones of all wholeness.
In belief, the colours of old leaves never change.
As annoying and as high pitched mosquitoes,
Buzzing around in the ear lobes of the poor.
Seeking for relief from the previous commotion.
Like so many try to prove what isn't.
A page is turned in next phase of life.
Together we see the clouds shape the steps,
Toward the road that lies next in the lost film.
In the wise old pines that guide the aimless,
Through the cobwebs that drape over,
Those of strange flesh and bones.
Renewal is rewarded by the sensation of oaks.
Oaks that which offer the wisdom to let go.
A necessity chooses the fruit that poisons,
The doubts of the misplaced children,
Who have come to play in the game of norms
The summer's heat seeps into the pores,
Caressed with the warmth of a sentimental being.
Once wished to be left by the cherished,
Yet denied by its assimulator
Scene in the heart that had skipped the loving beat.
Surmized in the sum of my hand.
Light is instilled into the hollowness.
The trees follow their roots into the ground
Absorbing the assistence of any helper,
Guiding us to stronger connections
Ever more grateful is the seed,
Who receives the praise of a thousand.
Other chances that grow near by
Ever entwined in the vines that save,
Instead of saping the goodwill from the core.
Laying at the heart of the them all the deadwood lies.
Adding to the growth of their will.
Forsaken the fate of their flaws.
Their essence lives on in the younger,
Who learned the words for survival.
Copyright © David Ferguson | Year Posted 2015
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