we are not alone
through the barren greenness of it.
without dams, though many rapids, twists, and turns
and waterfalls, where ones pulse races like the waters, that sparkle past the ferns
trees there are, growing upwards, to the bluest ever sky
the life of growing things, seeking ever up to reach, and even fly
pregnantly, eager and eternal skies await, to welcome each limb, as it climbs and grows
enfolding it in life, and love, enraptured in a beauty like a gods, and lovers rose
giving to a rough, and often crooked mortal thing, an eternal gift of love
as it grows, wreathed in leaves and bark, from the dirt to skies above
down below, upon the ground, we look up and marvel, seeing
a tree, but if we could open wider eyes, we would see a being
up, up, up above the ground, up above the world of us, and things
is a world of seeing, that time immeasurable to life, loving, brings
i climbed today, a hill, to see across the river, to the other shore
again, much like my heroes, exploring, always seeking to see more
and there, across the river, past a dim and distant shoreline
i saw a man, dressed much like me, though of darker, or maybe lighter, skin than mine
his eyes were closed, and he was sitting, 'pon a soft and shaded hill
with him was his wife, and family, sharing a picnic, as families will
i picture him, there sitting, looking in as so few do, among the lives we live
on a life and love, that reaches out around him, as even fewer, ones will give
seeing, without eyes(i's) what we could see with 'em if we chose
the world, and time, and people, like a book, one day will close
and knowing, perhaps in time, the reason for it all
is to stand among each other , standing...standing tall.
Poetry by solomonstorm
Read 549 times
Written on 2011-03-22 at 15:17
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standing tall
time is a landscape , essence is a river, flowing nearly infinitethrough the barren greenness of it.
without dams, though many rapids, twists, and turns
and waterfalls, where ones pulse races like the waters, that sparkle past the ferns
trees there are, growing upwards, to the bluest ever sky
the life of growing things, seeking ever up to reach, and even fly
pregnantly, eager and eternal skies await, to welcome each limb, as it climbs and grows
enfolding it in life, and love, enraptured in a beauty like a gods, and lovers rose
giving to a rough, and often crooked mortal thing, an eternal gift of love
as it grows, wreathed in leaves and bark, from the dirt to skies above
down below, upon the ground, we look up and marvel, seeing
a tree, but if we could open wider eyes, we would see a being
up, up, up above the ground, up above the world of us, and things
is a world of seeing, that time immeasurable to life, loving, brings
i climbed today, a hill, to see across the river, to the other shore
again, much like my heroes, exploring, always seeking to see more
and there, across the river, past a dim and distant shoreline
i saw a man, dressed much like me, though of darker, or maybe lighter, skin than mine
his eyes were closed, and he was sitting, 'pon a soft and shaded hill
with him was his wife, and family, sharing a picnic, as families will
i picture him, there sitting, looking in as so few do, among the lives we live
on a life and love, that reaches out around him, as even fewer, ones will give
seeing, without eyes(i's) what we could see with 'em if we chose
the world, and time, and people, like a book, one day will close
and knowing, perhaps in time, the reason for it all
is to stand among each other , standing...standing tall.
Poetry by solomonstorm
Read 549 times
Written on 2011-03-22 at 15:17
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
