They sing their own songs
In the spirit of light.
No, they do not take credit for that.
Nor, do they drain under dust and disdain
That suffers hollow minds.
They compose their verses in the wind
And revel at their spirits’ charm, or so as it seems.
They inspire dance in a dragonfly,
Touch in a bee, or a butterfly.
And quiver not at the bleat of a goat.
They do not complain, nor do they seek---
Attention, that spoil ribbons of love.
They bury moments in pure delight,
Unlike men that lose sight of purpose.
And coil under their own vulnerabilities.
They do not fantasize their own glory
Nor live a lie that do not define them.
They swell in pride with pure submission,
That, for man, would take years to fathom
As deliberate apprehensions rip off their minds.
They sing their verse, unheard, unsung
Revel, in the breast of Mother Earth.
They feel Her beat, Her heat, and in sweet surrender
Submit to the gallows of Time.
Though hated, sometimes scorned, undervalued
for their power to produce and reproduce.
For encroaching unknown territories,
Yet they don't complain, for they know
Love is for all and they are no exception.
Categories:
hawkweed, appreciation,
Form: Free verse
I stumbled upon
a field of Lupines
and what a sight it was.
Proud spikes swaying
in the morning breeze
poking their colorful heads
above the wild grasses
and Oxeye Daisies,
delicate Fleebane
Queen Anne’s Lace,
Hawkweed and St. John’s Wort,
Large Bluets and Buttercups galore
all mixing in a meadowy display
showing off their beauty
in a Summertime way
that gave me pause
and made me realize
how Nature’s randomness
of flowers and vines and bushes and trees
create the most amazing magnificence
where every living thing
sits side-by-side, never competing
never complaining, never repeating
comely and divine, a work of art sublime
that would all change come tomorrow
but today this was all mine.
Categories:
hawkweed, flower, july, nature, seasons,
Form: Free verse
Agreeable Dawn for a
In though a blade
No other goal .... "Go just bounce around"
Every clump made me haggle with fate
Twinkle in my lips at the end of walk
My magnifiers fall on the bumblebee on Hawkweed
Which throw me to notion of stubborn ethnic group
In COVID war alike poison of weed unnoticed by bee
Like a halfwit mad ,took the pretty from plant
Felt a pricky near my collar
Just gave a Pat and back to force
Clock had done it's work many times
Just a blink to me
Felt something hitchy
Heard the
Every lively throb broke a hailstrome in my skull
Felt hacksaw in my abdomen
Index of my heart gone blanch
Weaping from my throat surrounded the virus
No more blaze just pain
My magnifiers turned to the quarantine bed
Striked a mirth in my lips
Bled raised on my neck
Blaze in eyes ,no more
Just a halter of bumble bee
My defense mechanism showed over perfection
Inoculation of fright flight dominator
CAN MAKE ME ALRIGHT
Categories:
hawkweed, destiny, fear, horror, imagination,
Form: Free verse