The Search in the Woods: Part Two
when the trees burn
the flames cast no light
towards my direction;
the shadows belong
to something darker
darker than the heat
I run from dark enough
to swallow
my
soul
nature
Vomit Poetry Challenge [Day 4]: somewhere over the rainbow
30-Day Vomit Poetry Challenge: Day 4. No stops, no deletes, no edits–just write and keep writing. Publish as it is.
somewhere over the rainbow
there is another rainbow,
perfectly arched and iridescently coloured
like a rainbow should
and here I stand, perceiving it
down to the very pixel
the ever-changing light
the misty freshness after the rain
and I realize that there are only rainbows
there have always been rainbows
not somewhere far, somewhere over
they are right here, in my heart
Songs that the forest sings
Each tree has a song
Each flower a memory
Each forest a spirit
that dreams up stories
with each soft blink
The Universe Speaks
At last, the Universe speaks to me;
I question, as it speaks true, as it speaks through,
the metaphors congregate in a golden spiral;
my spirit expands and folds, expands and folds,
caught in this eternal cosmic heartbeat;
this language has no grammar, no punctuation,
yet I understand every single word:
they merge as they emerge,
becoming one with my existence,
my self exalted in spiritual alchemy:
slowly, I breathe–
slowly, I am one with the Universe
The Promise of Act Two
The tree now stands, supported
by rocks and pillars of wood;
did the adventure and I fail
to intersect; had I so nonchalantly
rejected destiny’s calling?–was it
a test, a tentative trial to sift through
the uncaring passerby’s, to locate
its hero? Was there an explosion
of smoke, a ringing of the ears,
a promise of three magical boons?
Was someone’s life changed forever
when it could have been me?
I lower my head, switch songs
on my iPod, and walk past–
It’s just a tree.
Isn’t it?
The Forest Sleeps
I count the silences
each time a bird lowers its head
as if in prayer
and I dare not whisper
for the leaves are quiet
amidst the wind
Solace Wood
peace dwells and sleeps
at the heart of all tree
There Is No Middle Ground by Arthur Solomon
“Solitude” by fairydancer464 via PhotoBucket
This poem is not mine, but I want to share because it’s meaningful.
There are many people who have seen the way things are,
And have asked almost in despair,
But what can I do?
An the only answer has been,
You have to do something about You.
Only you can decide whether you will be a part of
This destruction or whether you will set
Your heart and mind against it.
You may not be able to change where you work or how
You earn your living,
But you are totally responsible for the direction that
You give your own life.We are only visitors here in this part of Creation,
We are guests of the one who owns this Creation.
We are always to keep in mind that we
Can own nothing here, not even our own lives.
So the purpose of life then, is
Not to acquire possessions
But to honour the Creator by how we live.If we choose to be on the side of that great Positive Power
We have no choice but to set our hearts and minds
Against the destruction around us,
But thought without action is useless.
We must be on one side or the other
And how we will involve ourselves must be the free choice of everyone.If we choose to act, we must act intelligently
And with common sense.
It means we will do everything in our power to understand
The questions that we choose to involve ourselves with.But whatever we are, we must be action people
Even if the only action possible is to pray.Power is given to each of us by the Creator.
They are on a journey, they have chosen their way.
They will restore their humanity.
They will take their place in the sun.
Will their path be a road of anger and bloodshed?
Or will it be a road they can walk on in honour and peace?A new nation of people will be born again,
the sacred colour red will be restored
and no power on earth can prevent it>
You, that other colour of man,
can assist at the birth of this new nation,
Will you?
Taken from “The Hollow Tree” by Herb Nabigon,
Reprinted from Arthur Solomon, Songs for the People: Teachings on the Natural Way. Edited by Michael Posluns, 67-8 (Toronto: NC Press, 1990)
Eventually
Eventually
Darkness spilled in from the windows of our houses
Our dreams became the splinters in our mind
And every time we tried to wash the blood off our hands
We scraped off skins, muscles and cells
But we were rotten to the bones
Endless darkness, down down down to our very core
There it was, the curse of the devil gnawing at the our heart
Our ability to love
.
Eventually
We offered forgiveness to those who offered something in return
We performed charities only we had something to gain
We loved only when we were loved more
And we cried and complained when we weren’t love enough
.
Eventually
We had overcome that darkness
We had thoroughly absorbed it and made it our own
Darkness had become us as we lived in light.
.
Eventually, we are light.
Ascend
Pieces of future, like seeds
Of a dandelion
Caught in the wind that has once
Been the air beneath a butterfly’s wing
.
At night, I dream of cocoons
Of feathers fighting to wield a storm
Of grey-furred bears waking up in snow
Of dazzling fireworks melting into the blinking stars
Of car honks wrapped in a horse’s gallop
Of children growing old, their bodies curling up
Turning into wrinkled babies
.
I dream of time, intertwined
With our heartbeats
Severed at the sound of life ceasing
The infinite ticking, disappears when we
No longer hear
.
Only listen
To the immense, beautiful silence of
This universe shifting, slowly
The sound of our bodies changing form
The moment when we are everything
When we no longer have to become
But are.
By K.T.
Somewhere Nowhere in My Kingdom 