Thermals Poems | Examples

Hang Gliding

A day at the cliffs, dancing with wind shifts.
There’s nothing like this, a day of pure bliss.
Safety must come first, to avoid the hearse.
Helmet for your head, harness or you’re dead

With glider in hand, it’s time to leave land.
You need to run swift, to catch the wind’s lift.
You’ll fly like a bird; few sounds will be heard.
Thermals are flowing, sunshine is glowing.

As turns you’re making, sights are breathtaking.
After an hour, look for the tower.
Flight demanding, it’s time for landing.
Bank into the wind and let your flight end.

Eagle above

Eagle soars above 
On thermal, wing span power,
Personifies One....

Humanity

Thermal air currents in physics are primarily explained by the Second Law of Thermodynamics which states that heat always flows from a hotter to a colder region, causing the warmer air to rise and cooler air to sink, creating convection currents. 




A murmuration
Gliding along on thermals 
Starlings ascending

THE ZIGGURAT

The Ziggurat


So.
I am completed now,
and what have you learned 
that you did not already know?

Closer to the gods, I suppose,
who seem somewhat indifferent
if you ask me.
You are the ones making all the noise.

I have no complaint.
You treat me well.
You lavished millions of man-hours 
to forge and lay my bricks.
You commissioned the finest work of artisans 
to inscribe my walls.

I am admired,
worshiped perhaps, by many
(not all, I notice - I will keep their secret).

I do stand tall and imposing,
and the view is quite nice.

The birds, in particular, seem to be appreciative,
catching soft thermals from my sloped sides.
They glide without effort at the pinnacle;
some even daring to land.

And that’s about it for me.
What did YOU have in mind?

A VERY PERSONAL VALENTINE

in our secret world
lips to lips
our hearts in passion
pound
our needs
  in whispers sound

pleasure's fever
 in desire unchained

the crescendo choir
of words
   fans the fire
 love floats
on thermals
     of
        kissing

  missing minutes

become
  hours
in the longing
    to give
 to receive
    to touch
cuddle
  & caress

she
  my
     valentine

The Condor

Marvelous to see
a condor soar
unlike the ghoul
when landed and picking -- 

master of thermals!

dark lord of demise -- 

which makes me more
profoundly consider

his tearing beak, and 
vacant, soulless eyes

imagining now, a higher
purpose, loftier reason
for his seeming casual
glides -- dripping red, making
bleeding sunsets~ exposing
man's many elevated truths

(righteousness we use to
impale one another)

as splatters of bloody lies --

WELCOMING WINTER

Winter is on its way

With long nights and short day

With chilled winds of fragrant clay

On lovely cold nights, stay in the fireplace way

With the joy of being around pets and their nay-nay!

 

 Winning winter in all hot way

Hot coffee, hot toast, or a hot soup

Vapours pour out in whatever we say

Wearing thermals, gloves, and what may

Cold and chilled are the days on the way.

 

Working in winter is a tight way to say

Sitting comfy with a coffee and a book

Enjoying through the winter window

A well-wished way to witness Nature Play

Welcoming winter with a wish and a pray

 

Welcoming winter with a bouquet & a song

Wild cold immerses us in wine & white snow

With the oven smelling too good colours of cakes

Watching all the stack of pantry with cool eyes

Welcoming winter with both nay and yay!

The Canyons

The canyons dim, the canyons dark,
fast river churning at its heart;
the canyons sheer, the canyons steep,
trees cling to walls, ready to leap;
the canyons tall, the canyons wife,
voice echoes on the other side;
the canyons long, the canyons rough,
running those rapids would be tough;
the canyons air, the canyons breeze,
condors upon the thermals seize;
the canyons rim, the canyons trail,
draws gaping tourists without fail;
the canyons depth, the canyons walls,
few hikers reach the floor at all;
the canyons cut, the canyons age,
reminds us that earth doesn’t play.

The Crow

?The air gently rises, I'm called, I'm called
"Spread now your wings, fly free, into the sky"
My wings impatient to ride the wind soaring
Softly call me to take the rising thermals
I spring away and fall before my wings
Gracefully open wide and strong
And bear my weight and break my fall
Spiral, around, around, rising on water
Driven air, rising from plunging water
Gravity fuelled, spring driven, seaward bound
It powers me up on wide spread wings.
I climb up, toward the vast blue sky
Lifted by the rising air column
I'm grace, perfection, control, ease
And above all master of the air
The ground recedes, the dry earth
Expands, stretches, and soon
Way above I fly because I can
Not because I must but
Because I am lord of all I survey.

Bald Eagle Sonnet

He circles around this rustic boat launch,
the locals know he nests in the pine trees,
fish bone at the base tell of his last lunch,
these birds like water, big lakes and sea.
White heads draw the eye, even if far off,
it’s clear why most men think them majestic,
he looks better still plunging for the waves,
into a trout yellow talons now rip.
Some folks snap photos from this rocky beach,
zoom in on fledglings with thin mottled heads,
they flap wings to fly, but it’s still a reach,
so they just hop back to their nesting bed,
it will be some months before they’re ready
to soar on the thermals, strong and steady.

Ethereal Peaks

In misty heights, where clouds embrace the stone,
Our souls ignite, no longer flesh and bone.

Dawn breaks, a spark across the dreaming sky,
As master's words make reality fly.

We climb through realms where logic bends and twists,
Our minds are ablaze with wisdom's amethysts.

Noon's golden fire reveals a hidden door,
Beyond which time... flows backwards, then no more.

The master speaks, his voice a crackling flame,
Each syllable is a universe to tame.

We float on thermals of enlightened thought,
Our earthly doubts now burned to ashen nought.

Dusk paints the peaks with consciousness diverse,
As stars descend to whisper nature's verse.

In twilight's glow, dimensions start to blur,
Reality and dreams begin to stir.

Night falls, yet darkness yields to the inner light,
Our beings fused with cosmic oversight.

The master's ember glows within our cores,
Illuminating wisdom's distant shores.

Mountains dissolve, we're cinders in the void,
Yet paradox leaves the senses overjoyed.

Enlightenment, a wildfire in the mind,
Burns illusions, leaving the truth behind.

Plumage

You found your plumage 
In your feathers
When the sun was on your wings
And when the thermals bore you on
Your heart burst out in song

You roared in flight
You scorched the sun
You sang the song unsung
And in your plume your feathers burned
You plunged; your song undone –

You found your solace
In your feathers
When the gloaming preened your plumes
And when the moon was on your wings
You dreamed of other things

And what you learned of darkness
And what you learned of light
You learned the day you burst into
The heart of heaven’s eye
Burning out in flames of youth
Your plumage blazing bright –

Upon the hill

Where do all those rivers run
Which take so many far from here?
Some leave for a day or two
While others seem to go for years.
As I watch the waters flow
I feel a certain type of chill,
For I don't know the answer
And I am sure I never will.

Now, where do all the birds go
That catch a ride on thermals high?
Seem they disappear so quick
With quite a sound as they pass by.
Some will return in the spring
Yet there's a few I'll never see,
And for those now lost in time,
They're a mystery to me.

I sit through every season
And I change with the weather too;
I've watched old ones pass away
While mothers bring in life anew.
Day and night, through rain and snow,
Often saved from the lumber mill;
For eighty years I'm the tree
That sits alone upon the hill.

Traffic

In the hazy air, the camera drone 
followed the stagnant river of traffic,
telegraphing images to control.
The thermals from the searing hot pavement
fighting with the machine’s languid progress
following a braising stream of escapees
from the oppressive summer city heat;
now, slowly cooking in their own tin cans.

Come that one Morning

Sit and watch the sunrise
     on a morning oh, so clear;
Listen to the whispers
     riding on those breezes near.
Look for the sailing ships
     cruising high upon the sea,
Then silently give thanks
     that you are still walking free.

Gaze upon the mountain
     that is standing out afar;
Wonder if people there
     would even know who you are.
Watch the eagle soaring
     on the thermals up above,
Looking for his dinner
     while you are looking for love.

Cross the wide prairie green
     on a summers afternoon;
Cottonwoods are in sight
     so you know you'll be there soon.
There's a little cabin
     standing in a clearing bright
And you hope that you'll sleep
     ever peacefully tonight.

Yesterday's far behind
     while tomorrows never come,
And for all your travels
     seems your journey's not yet done.
In-between weariness
     and footprints lost in the sand;
You might wake one morning,
     when at last you'll understand.

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