last of falls foliage frozen in time
Do not carve wisdom with the blade of fear,
Nor strike the mind as one would strike a stone.
The soul is not a wall to break apart,
But soil that waits for rain and patient sun.
For knowledge, like a bird, will not remain
Where hands are raised in threat instead of care.
It nests where reason builds a gentle home
And questions open doors the whip cannot.
Ask not with thunder why the child has erred,
But sit beside them in the quiet light
And let them search their steps upon the path
Until they see where shadow crossed their way.
For truth is born in dialogue of hearts,
And virtue grows where understanding leads.
He who would teach must first be just and kind,
And guide the mind — not break it into shape.
Pray for the birds,
Racing to survive the harshness of mother nature,
All in a desperate fight,
Yielding to relish the essence of life,
Forging emaciate energy,
Oh survival is hard,
Radically hard with time,
Time withers,
Hath time not withered?
Effortless it hath,
Bring thy hands together and pray for the birds,
I rest not,thou rest not and pray for the birds,
Racing to survive the harshness of mother nature,
Duly they fight,
Satisfy them.
It is the harshness of life that makes us appreciate more the comfort of it!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
08 June 2022
frozen is the ground
the grass did not live to tell
secrets of the earth
Our State is dry and the water is gone
our wells are drought ridden
we need dams our foods are drying up
nitrates in our waters and cancer evolves
almonds are the worse,
this year we will share our walnuts
with crows and squirrels I hope we do not fight
but July is still not over
our republicans consider only about money
money is dry and hard to drink
the virus is growing even with vaccines
re-masking must return
it seems to be too much
and I hope so much greed will
fall into the ground, perhaps
masks return and life will become important again
Winter chills air;
birds flock and feed from berries
before the famine
Sheep graze greedily;
Keen eyed buzzards pick off prey
nature's bleak beauty
When winter is done;
Birds will welcome spring and sing
for joy each new dawn
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