when travelling
know where to start from
and you will always arrive on time
we are never going to get
out of this backwater
of self or that
greater planetary Self
on rocket fuel
fording light years requires
a certain stillness
each person
is a facsimile of this world
what is outer is also inner
what is above is below
when we get this
we can really climate change
good to be a metaphorical tree
better to be a root
where the eyes of the forest are
everything has a center
find that
and start from there
any meaningful journey
is beneath the path taken
ignore that watchful stillness
and you will lose your way
between A and Z
A girl with an earthen jar, (;)
Dim clouds, feels stormy mad.
Long and winding road so far!
Yet arise their crops so glad.
Brisk steps fording a brook,
Skies roar makes quaver voice.
She pass with an eager look,
Now a damsel with a poise!
At the clothesline, there she goes.
Hasty and rash oh rain drops!
Will the stream overflows?
And muse, fond of ripple grasps.
Oh dancing with them please dreams,
If still further she'll sing.
But a ray to reckon gleams,
The mountain's truth is rising.
Painted Rivers
The rivers of this land are painted
By the blood and tears of the people
Whether invaders or fishermen
Swimmers or towns’ folk
It’s always the same no matter what
A cost needs to be paid
Blood will do but so will sweat
When that fails there are tears
For this land is special and sacred
The people instinctively know it
And pay the price with no question
One man drowned whole bathing
Two more missing while fishing
A mother vanished fording the river
On and on it goes but we accept this
We are here on this land
And more will soon follow
Varied folk of varied reasons
The price will continue
The place’s tradition
Come and join us
MAJOR INSOMNIA
CORPORAL SLEEP
Nick Armbrister and other writers
Oh What A Christmas Tree
Mistletoes, poinsettias, holly, and pinecones, stimulate their confidences regarding passage,
Tenuous fancied is the Norfolk pine, object facing, particular noble fir, and unique blue spruce trees,
These choice picks are amidst the well-bred evergreen trees variety fulfilling unspecified housed ambiance,
Detonates invariable sanctioned jubilation that a tree augmented during this festive holiday pageantry,
Well-kept treasured amassed souvenirs concerning marvels, embellish the excitable anticipant,
Venerated ostentatious amusements that sparkle in changeable glassed colorful bulbed shades,
While delicate precious keepsakes in attic cluttered boxes, issued in periods fording the annular flake catwalk,
Together with tinseled and snow-sprayed intensifications to ring in a most blessed Christmas vision,
In the whole grandeur, unwrap gifts escapism within overindulged pupils, a halcyon sweet surrender.
2019 December 25
what was my name? asked the passing wind,
how do i know... humming a song, the wind
passes the wood hopping and jumping on the path
why am i standing here? asked the drifting cloud,
how do i care... embracing the trees of the mountainside,
the cloud drifts buoyantly dancing and bouncing around
what am i doing here? asked the blazing sun high above,
it’s none of my concern... throwing burning fire to the earth,
the sun moves west while beckoning a reddened glow
why am i still here? asked a leaf fording rapids,
you may have an inseparable tie on this troubled world...
as if sighs and sobs, the leaf roams on water with murmur
when can i be there on the other side of the world?
asked the stars above a field of shriveled reeds,
one of such dark and frightening nights
where the blizzard whips and tears the broken reeds...
the stars fell on swaying reeds became a chilly downpour rain
A Weight Upon My Shoulders
Sometimes the world feels heavy
Its weight upon my shoulders
As I seek to find some order
And sort things in mental folders.
There are things I know important
Things that shan’t be missed
But it’s hard to remember all
With daily additions to my list.
It’s tiring and stressful
But also quite rewarding
Knowing it is my loved one
I help cross the streams he’s fording.
I know it can’t be easy
Each day as he does wake
But he puts forth the effort
Knowing what’s at stake.
Our priorities are different
As are the places we can go
But it’s the steps we take together
In this new world we grow.
Yes, we both are tired
Our view of things have changed
Ever since his stroke
And our life was rearranged.
With winter's pass, reciting nature's spring
forgets relapse, and ventures into bring.
World's garment stretches to enfold and sing,
its song's inhabitants now listening, but to cling.
I cling to thought of Thee, my hope's conspire
as Thee do surfeit self in moment's sire,
still everlasting truth is not for hire,
my cost in time's affording, ne'er aspire!
The rounding of life's journey not replace
with entities now thwarting for their trace.
As not the effort warding, use disgrace
to mobilize their fording, strength's efface.
That higher vestige, let me climb inspired,
no dogma chancing, nor taunt's override.
I can go on, achieving heart's true stride
though hurting inward, love is still applied!
The soul's resource is healing - bona fide
and Thee, am hoping find Thy own implied!
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