The woods are alive. I can hear the creatures squawking. The dogs distantly barking. The forest talking. The woods are alive. Spring is near. I hear the creatures squawking. The dogs distantly barking. The forest talking.
It is not the colorful display of flowers that enlists me. Though the warmth they bring. I await eagerly. The majesty of a tree...I could ponder, again and again. Its weight. Its shelter. Its ability to defend. There is truth to the pine, the ash, the birch. An honesty to being fastened to the earth. … Continue reading Fastened to the Earth
Flea Market snowshoes had been my last hope. And, I knew well enough, falling up would be easier to achieve than down. Both being a natural achievement that comes with little sound. Still! There had been an organic urge. The kind set within a pit. Lit up. Flamed and encouraged. All of the elements wound … Continue reading Flea Market Snowshoe
Spruce and pine. What a victorious state of mind? There is only an pardon from the gods. A single cell producing an immediate choice. Nonetheless, the basking beauty of the land holds the prevailing voice. When the sun is out... Still no refuge from a terminal chilled breeze A sway to the winds. A brave … Continue reading Pardoning from the Gods
It is enticing, the shades of snow. Far off outside of me... Frozen objects with no place to go. In-spite of my disdain... I linger in piles of bone brittle, white drifts. Searching for the warmth of an elegant refrain. Northerly gusts push my breath inward. Light does not remain.