mist has laid
a soft anointing mark
shimmering on
the soul’s bent branches
The clouds have silver linings
They do indeed, I saw it
A gust of wind shut the bedroom door
Nor me neither the cat
Moved up – the wind was blowing
A little rain passed by
The elm, the linden and the oak
Stretched their branches to me
As if to say be quiet
We are here, rely on us
I couldn’t think a word.
The glasses are empty the wine has been drunk
A table left untidied, with plates undone
The young shoots are patterning the apple trunk
Life appears for the favour of young
The old branches cut and piled on the ground
The old shades now vanished away
The TV controls wait somewhere to be found
Time stands still as if on delay
I hear your voice, feel it shifts through the air
The breeze of this morning flies by
You say I can’t see you here, are you upstairs?
I probably am, I reply…
I witnessed the juxtaposition
and was humbled
to witness such
while running
through the thirsty rain
I listened to Huey Lewis
sing ‘The Power of Love’
and smiled at the irony
and I remembered
my high school teacher repeat:
“Pay attention.
Pay attention.”
Pay attention!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bare fingers grasp~
the winter sky's cold scripture,
ink-black and aching.
Each branch a frozen psalm,
waiting for spring's warm amen.
Woods burn away the shadows with a voice of light, softly playing on the shadows who reveal all that’s right ~ by poet
On a carpet of hope, the grass trembling
Gentling song of the woods, a silent murmur
Soft echoes of light playing on the branches
Feelings, like joy, writing hope into my spirit
When the wind blows, like a music who blesses
There is a prayer answered, praising in stillness
While grace pours out her lingering acceptance
And the wonders of ferns and laurel whistle,
Lingering on the night, dewy pearls of hope
Blessing every thought, as nature conceals
Shadows who easily bleed through the pines
And I let the past go, hearing only the twilight
I
on the beach of every person that was and will be
i was but a single grain of sand…
nature and death the humblers of man…
external labels should be replaced with simply “i am.”
much like life this poem is free verse no iambs…
where every face seems to have an ulterior
in today’s world, at birth none are superior or inferior
the key rests in judging less of the exterior…
though many men choose evil,
so one must gage their interior…
they squander the gift and deserve society’s backlash
still some men are unrightfully
grouped in with society’s trash…
our judging eyes often deceive us like cash…
the universe which sees collective over (>) the Ego’s trap…
looking in nature’s processes will help one see that…
there is a “you” that exists off society’s map…
expand your mind and it may land in your lap…
If branches had hands to hold
They’d cradle the wind not scold
They’d catch the rain’s soft fall
And wave to the birds who call
They’d brush the sky’s blue face
In slow forgiving grace
They’d reach for one another’s sway
And never feel alone that way
If branches had hands to hold
They’d shelter hearts grown cold
They’d clasp each leaf before it fell
And cradle what life had to tell
They’d hug the sun goodbye at dusk
Their bark perfumed with loving trust
And in the quiet of the night
They’d hold the stars just right
If branches had hands to hold
Perhaps the world would feel less old
Perhaps the trees would teach us how
To hold what matters even now.
Dominoes aligned in a row
Dots white on black mix and match
Offshoots branch out into tangents
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 1st place 2025
Upon the path of silence, soft and deep,
Where winter's breath bids ancient secrets keep,
A frozen veil on branches, stark and bare,
Reflects a heart, held captive by despair.
Each frosted bough, a lace of silver spun,
A whispered plea to a forgotten sun.
The winding trail, a promise, pale and thin,
To paths unknown, where solace might begin.
Mist veils the pines, like thoughts that softly stray,
In shadows where the light has lost its way.
And in this hush, a feminine lament,
For beauty lost, and time so swiftly spent.
The air itself, a hush, a gentle sigh,
Beneath the gaze of a leaden, watchful sky.
A frozen world, a mirror to the soul,
Where melancholic whispers take their toll.
Melting clocks on branches of thought, dripping seconds into the ocean,
My consciousness—a whirl of shadows and lights dancing chaotically,
Seeking the truth hidden behind the wax masks of reality.
Words collapse like autumn leaves, leaving silence behind,
Stripping away layers of artificial knowledge, illusory certainties,
Until I stand naked before the boundless mirror of existence.
I discover that truth is not a treasure to be found, but a veil to be lifted,
From the eyes of a mind weary from so much futile searching outward,
When all that was needed was to look inward, into the void full of whispers.
I unfold like a lotus flower under the moonlight,
Petal by petal, I let go of false identities, of roles played,
Until only the pure essence remains, unaltered by time and thought.
In this profound silence, I hear for the first time the melody of truth,
A song without notes, a symphony of the creative void,
And I understand that awakening is not a journey, but a return home.
Bite Size Contest no123 Poetry Contest
FOREST QUEEN
As ash the oak remembers the kiss of the flame.
Fallen branches remember the wind’s caress.
The bark is armor hardened by time.
Her leaves hum lullabies for the sun.
Beneath her boughs, the breeze begins to breathe.
She stands. She waits. She grows. She knows.
ROOTS AND BRANCHES
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tree roots hold steadfast
though branches bend in the wind
faith and loyalty
the early sun drapes gently across the branches
a whisper of promise, of new golden chances
A BRIGHT MORNING OPENS EVERY QUIET DOOR
and shadows retreat where the sun will restore
love clings tenderly in petals that shine
hearts lift overhead like branches that climb
BEAUTY BECOMES BLOSSOMS, BOLDLY BREAKING THROUGH
and faith feels steady, reshaped and born anew
waves whisper gently, curling near the coast
dreams drift forward, the ones I cherish most
COURAGE CAN COME, PEACEFULLY CALLING ME HOME
leading the lost where the spent still roam
night leans close and stars give counsel to the sky
hope clears gently and grief learns to fly
DREAMS DESCEND QUIETLY, GLOWING THROUGH MY HEART
and love, unwavering-binds what was torn apart
Branches
an assumed relationship
parts and whole
impossibly seem to
convince that a tree
is a tree~~
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