some poems to ease my minD:
rain drops
splatter about me
while "sunspots" wail
behind me,
sometimes eye get so
excited, eye could just go,
sprinting through the field,
swinging and dancing on
mama Earths" floor
We're DOING IT
We're MAKING IT
I'd shout to the trees,
the plants, the sky
-About Beauty and the world,
life being what it is
And our dreams, outplaying
before our Very Eyes
creating structures with
wood from the forest floor,
planting seeds, crafting pots,
My hands were made to
feel the Earth, build dreams,
write stories, paint feelings,
draw shapes, heal trauma,
caress animals, hold space
to be grateful in action
Harness optimism, cradle passion,
manifest everything
you think.
bodies for feeling
our roots sprawling
through the planet,
we call home.
__
Cutting edge, history, here.
Every morning, it happens again,
usually confronted, all ways present,
waking up from dreams
where everything is E-Z,
with no choices dividing space
or matter, the way our
eyes ripple time,
the way our thoughts,
reap patterns,
we make our own Mazes,
here, where my breath
is measured in
Moments, declared, actuely,
inside the Box you're
raised in, by the
shadows that made you,
into the light you
are today.
after you realize,
there is something
to realize,
recognition caught in
slow motion, calling upon
and beckoning after thoughts,
relying all the while
on the Universe to be
the, Universe, one who
makes everything, be
exactly as, it, shall, Be
the kind of Magic,
you don't need to See
to believe!
__
dream boats,
rocky isles,
mission completed,
and no one for miles.
waking up to
fall back asleep,
asking for more,
requiring less,
today is the day
my hands meet their maker,
the ground, where roots sprawl,
into the Dust,
you call home.
remember?
you were made for this place,
See you in the fields.
__
