Night sounds.

Frogs chanting through the fulcrum of the night. These last four poems have all been written in response to my reading of a wonderful book of poems by Silke Heiss, called Sweet nothings. At the end of these incredible poems, she invites one to write ones own poems of a similar nature. so I have…

Mattins

Waking , stretching, yawning, opening the curtains: Metal grey morning light, shrouded in a gray mist, slowly meandering into fluffy clouds; turning pink, Egyptian geese begin to honk excitedly doves angelic slow low songs, resonate through the colours of dark blue; while squirrels start to dart along the branches of the tree, doves slowly drift…

Hydrology

Shaken by the sound of more ice cracking, into unborn futures of sunken societies. Water seeping , falling into drying earth, cracks appear, trees are struggling. My great tree fights off infestations, looses its leaves, throughs new green shoots in the heat of dispear.

Bare feet

Walking a rhythm, no shoes on my feet, I begin to pick up thoughts feel the life pulsing upward, as I plant myself perfectly still, feeling wisdom, hearing the breeze whispering through the leaves and I stand at attention drinking in our dwindling natuarl world, seeing a consummate manifestation of the universe rich, but troubled.

Midday!

The breaze russels the leaves of the great tree, I sit under the tree, listening, looking out at the mirage hovering at the horison, drinking in the mystic rhythms of the tree’s ecosystem in the steamy coolness of the midday sun, as I slowly doze off into infinity.

Concrete tears.

The tree stands between two house, pushing in on it, causing it to be trimmed further back, having its sides shaved, it is drowning in concrete , leaves fallin in anquish as pests attack, leaving black tears running down ancient growth, slowly blocking this great store of wisdom.

Tree whispers

Deap in the organic exitement of life sacred conversations between trees, looking after the equalibrium of their ecosystem, exchaning information organic materials, warnings, elements, whispers of the universe.

The Trees lament.

Crack, another nearby tree goes down in the torrid winds that blow from different directions, heralding the change of season, when I like many of my fellow trees am full of new growth , pollen, seeds and vigger, but still I wory that I too will fall, you see the two legged animals, who spoil…

Tree words 2

A lonely dove bobbed under my great bow picking up seeds in the green grass, usually there are more who come to visit, but now the noise has returned, the air is fowl, but I am helping with that, as I normally do. In my long life time starting when this area was still wild…

Bottom Leaf

Originally posted on Roth Poetry:
In an everchanging world, I find myself struggling with the way in which things are moving! Life goes on whether I want to come along or not. As I watch the struggles of social groups and see the injustice that has long plagued our country’s history, I wonder where we…