This simple tree...
Her branches a
Tree Clef staff for song
birds.
Her canopy a trapeze for these
squiggles, these squirrels.
This simple tree...
Her trunk a temple;
a spire to Heaven.
Her bark a canvas
for Northern moss.
This simple tree...
Her roots a roof
to burrowing beasts.
Her leaves a beetle's
green lunch munched.
This simple tree...
Her shade a cooling
respite for a
thousand forms.
This simple tree...
a welcome respite
for a thousand
flapping forms
from a thousand
Wint'ring grounds.
This simple tree...
whose vaulting arch,
itself a royal crown...
whose lyric swaying,
showing unseen winds...
whose quiet patience,
teaches eons, teaches time...
whose singular sangha
is a lone unalone story,
befriended and borrowed,
by all that live.
This simple tree...
husher of poets.
This simple tree.
Categories:
unalone, art, environment, poets, tree,
Form: Free verse
Silently you went to disappear in blue -
alone or unalone -
I was watching a moth
on the burning lamp in night way
scrawled flat as death’s signature
on the heap of broken wings,
between space and time
an extra dimension,
the position of a point from void to
center of chaos,
life extracts the measurement,
a smile lost the lips
a vision, eyes –
outside body, the soul scribbles
mist and crumbs of age.
SATISH VERMA
Categories:
unalone, adventure, allegory, angst, animals,
Form: I do not know?
toys with thread
smiles- wide open plastic
eyes- cotton blood-
curled in the arms of
unknowns.
play with it- lay, don't
stay with it- crave its
compliant comfort- outgrow
it- don't know it at all.
sewn to be soft & ready-
picked from the shelf so
steady- warmed to sleep
unalone- torn, unravelled,
thrown.
toys- loved without language-
without reason- short lived
nonlives- unclosable wide
open eyes- disposable- no
goodbye.
Categories:
unalone, allegory, angst, childhood, introspection,
Form: Free verse
To feel the start of Spring rain on my face
Add wood to a fire that's warming more than the room
Help sip champagne at a sunset without a sun
Awake in midst of night , unalone
Watch a woodpecker punch a hole in a sugar maple
Then drink
Stand under the drip and try to mouth catch it
Feel Winter's wind knife through five layers of clothing
As a farewell grasping salute of promise
To know these words are not unheard
Categories:
unalone, life,
Form: Bio