I don't like to brag, but I've seen it all
The virginal Springs, the legends of Fall
Where whispering pines, meet towering peaks
And raging rivers, raise babbling creeks
A fresh forest glade, festooned with fauna
Hot bubbling waters, nature's own sauna
Swam the Tasman Sea, hiked along the Nile
Even met a wretch, walking "his" green mile
Once I played the Met, and jammed with the Stones
Then won a big bet, while rolling the bones
Met the self-righteous, who claims to be right
And basked with the meek, who shines a true light
From Rome's Rotunda and Phlegraean Fields
To Chinese lanterns and Japanese shields
Sailed the Seven Seas, been around the Horn
Watched a nation die, watched a nation born.
I've seen followers and leaders of men
I've met the Pope, forgiving my sin
Saw too many rich, degrading the poor
I've stood at Hell's gate, passed through Heaven's door
I've traveled the moon, the stars in the sky
I've charmed the Devil, making Angels cry
Like I said before, I don't like to brag
Here's a toast to ME, waving my own flag!
GARDENING SELF
Fertilize your mind…
Dig away self-worthlessness…
Nature your self-growth…
foundation started
around us life emerges
growing constantly
insecticides sprayed
crushed, smashed, thrashed, hard boot-heel-stamped ~
still they resurrect
For Epiphany Poetry Contest sponsored by Constance La France
“Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.” ~ Ludwig Josef Johann Wittgenstein
As I embarked upon the world,
I absorbed an idea
that there was some great truth to find.
Coming to believe
that if I didn't possess it, I would be missing
something essential -
like a tin man without a heart.
How could I find this truth?
Would it be through hard work -
study or life experience,
or would it be powerful or divine,
an epiphany
delivered by some kind of angel?
On all the stops that I visited on the road to find out -
parents, siblings, teachers,
books, religious texts, gurus,
philosophers, artists,
people with degrees,
I asked, "What is the truth?"
and my mind became a jumbled, cacophonous mess.
I took a break from the road to truth
to take solace in nature.
For fun, I asked a tree, a hummingbird, and a lake,
"What is the truth?"
No epiphany -
I heard only silence,
beautiful silence.
Sunlight is like an arrow.
Toward the earth, it flies;
It warms us in the morning,
But it hurts the gazing eyes.
A leaf is like an arrow.
It moves toward the ground;
After it clings for long to the tree,
It surrenders without a sound.
A dream is like an arrow.
It gives the heart a direction;
It soars toward fulfillment,
When shattered, it brings affliction.
Life is like an arrow.
It cannot return to the womb;
It shoots toward its destiny,
Long or short, it enters the tomb.
Time is like an arrow.
Once released, it never turns back.
It takes off toward infinity,
Golden moments, it doesn't lack.
flowers bloom and die
natures cycle -- life and death
rotating beauty
A Hut In Forest
What a nice neat simple life
Natural all things
The whole house is one room, hut
All the Path-room is out side.
it rains everyday
the family sleep like birds
and work the whole day.
Tanka and haiku.
she is an oak tree
roots drink storms in deep silence
still she shades the dawn
Another spring
Counting rings
No longer dark
Dog days wait, for their bark
Signaling life has been in bloom
And soon
A beautiful reality will arrive
You do not really die
Glorious sunshine
Photosynthesis dines
Fed well
From nature's magic spell
Can't you tell?
Arbor figure matures
Always sure
About wilderness’ door
No one ignores
Relaxed, whistling tunes
Branches dance and swoon
Turning everything green
Shade is an escape dream
Then things turn
Brown and burn
Chilling breeze sighs
Giving a ride
To the foliage who occupy
Twigs ready to say goodbye
Fall scheduled to begin
Giving the end
A win
Low temperatures chattering bite
Haunting the cool night
Crumbled leafs descend
Crinkling no bend
Completing their beauty rein
Realizing it's just a plants game
Meeting with the rake
Realizing the bag is ready to take
Them to the disposable bin
No need to call a next of kin
Since they will be shred
Rip and dead
Until spring
And another ring
Appears
Exclaiming the tree is here
Giving a reason
To celebrate each season
Letting the seeds
Do their deed
And grow more trees
REALITY
"There are some who believe life here, started out there, far above the Earth,
maybe beyond the Milky Way; somewhere beyond sight and exploration, where
mankind has never thought to look. And some believe life to be a video game.
every thought and action under the control of anonymous players who
nobody sees.
Some even believe that reality, as we know it, is what we make it.
But if that is true, why can reality not be changed even in the blink
of an eye which sometimes seems to be how fast bees fly
when they are about to attack?
Now torn from out the home I’ve ever known,
Propelled by unseen winds to stray away,
The chilling rain that bathes my form is shown
By moonlight in this dance of swift decay.
I twist and turn as tender veins now tear,
Impelled by gales that push me to the dark;
My frantic tumble plunges down to bear
With sudden force against this rugged bark.
Yet, resting in this comforting domain,
I bow, amazed to know the sun will rise;
A deeper life shall bless the soil again,
Where quiet roots ignore the stormy skies.
Held fast within the forest’s cool embrace,
I fade into the shadows of this place.
the ocean at night
my baby in pregnancy
everyday life
All of living is a cycle of time.
Henceforth my journey as a leaf in youth.
A youngster bloomed in warm wooded prime.
all ripe, green, ready as bud learns life's truth.
Gentle winds caressed my newborn virile veins,
allowing me to dance with grace and charm.
Those summer storms with fits of heavy rains,
never came quite near to cause me any harm.
Yet days commenced with winds of colder spell.
My heart experienced the changed condition.
Great beauties born in wooded trees soon fell.
And I released myself to life’s transition.
How thrilling it once was to be a bud!
What happens to a leaf, in wooded mud?
8/1/2026
Written: July 30th 2026 for a contest sponsored by Craig Cornish
***********
A single leaf across the hollow park—
unfolds its mesh to catch the shifting draft.
It glints above the stump’s decaying bark,
a fragile speck against the wooden shaft.
Through dappled light it rides the mossy air,
a quiet pilgrim seeking gentle ground.
It turns in circles, weightless, free of care,
and heeds no law the solemn trunks have found.
Yet now it falls, as all things must descend;
the forest waits to claim its fragile grace.
Its journey wanes, but still the boughs extend
a soft embrace to mark its resting place.
So brief a flight, yet through its downward wind,
The woods grow deep with truth it leaves behind.
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