Uprooted - Blame Nette - Not For Contest

UPROOTED “The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.”--------------------Rumi listen not to the vagrant zephyr seeking only sustenance of its kind idol thinkers lolling in innocence swayed by every whispering sigh unaware – that secrets lie. “We put the urn aboard ship.”---------------------------------------Sappho Single struggling sapling scented with the longings of leaving, kissed by the roots of a family’s tree adrift on a sea of doubt holding true to its native soil. “Wherever I am, the world comes to me.”-----------------------Mary Oliver An ocean lapping at the shores of time’s fleeting gusts enticing us to come aboard, sail her winds dance the song of the gentle rains shelter in her wooded arms and cliffs wait as her horizon’s greet my welcome. “the moon is a curving flower of gold.”---------------------------Sara Teasdale grinning in the pilfered beauty of sunlight stolen from beyond earth’s curving crust hanging its crescent hook for lover’s to ponder in the midst of loving’s lust petals falling in the path of daybreaks rush. “I like my body when it is with your”…memory-------------------e.e. cummings tingling with the cold salt spray of breakers overpowering the sand softly kissing the edges ……frothily spent bubbling beneath the screech of gulls nestled into the arms of home “the apparition of these faces in the crowd”-------------------------Ezra Pound vague faces of unknown forebears yellowing in time’s smoky rooms stern faces seeking a future young faces – now grown old dancing on the branches of a tree. “The tree is here, still, in pure stone” ----------------------------------Pablo Neruda troubled roots strengthened by hardship searching life’s invisible pathways meeting pressure with practiced patience offering shade, and presence touching granite’s hardened heart. John G. Lawless 7/24/2015 “Wherever I am, the world comes to me.” Mary Oliver “the apparition of these faces in the crowd.” Ezra Pound ”I like my body when it is with your….” e.e. cummings “The tree is here, still, in pure stone,” Pablo Neruda “We put the urn aboard ship.” Sappho “the moon is a curving flower of gold.” Sara Teasdale “the breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.” Rumi