In cloak of twilight
towering tresses move
like winged creatures
in dimness of timber;
where waterless wadi
lounges hidden beneath
one day will track
darkness of dark.
Wintry is my view
where jaded fern no
longer mature on
lay barren of critters.
Tucked deeply within
tired terrain is my soul;
like empty wadi
deep within layers
of soft tissue at twilight.
wa•di (wädē) (in certain Arabic-speaking countries) A valley, ravine, or channel that is dry except in the rainy season.
Woke up to ice dangling from the trees; where a few weeks ago we had 50 degrees days. The seasons hold us captive physically and emotionally.Over at Poets United we’re talking about captivity.
If you’ve never walked through wood,
where crows gather with clatter and chatter,
you’ve not known the ruckus and rumble
a flock can make in a woodland day.
Above is a hawk pursuing the flock,
a giant among many, yet outnumbered.
Is he guarding a nest and chasing the rest
or predator after his own kind of prey?
An uproar is stewing in the sky above,
a hue and a cry and a quite a hullabaloo!
My ears now are pinging, a ringing occurs,
on the tops of the trees their flying with ease.
A splendor and stir in woodland’s song…
So cool to be in the middle of the wood and look up to see a flock of noisy crows passing by…
soiled, stained, strapped;
by sin jaded and jeopardized.
John saw, stared into the future,
he breathed an unknown
smell, then shivered, in shock.
Seven stars sealed,
seven churches bruised,
seven lampstands shone;
the Son of Man stood,
hair like snow,
voiced as a bellowing brook,
feet blessed with brass.
No one jeered!
His countenance as
sun shining strength.
Sin forever smashed;
His one burden
Written from Revelations 1 using most verbs starting with b,j and s. Over at dVerse we are being challenged to use more verbs in our poetry.
Down in the kettle, low
to earth, snow dances
in eddies… laughing, toying
with passer-by; who is sunning…
bathing in the warmth created
in the deep hollow of earth.
Woodpecker tapping, tapping,
tapping burrowing in deep.
Mourning doves gathered
on brittle branches hovering
in this blessed hot spot; dream
as we all do longing for a time
without chill to the bone
climate. Yet, my eyes squint
as sunlight streams across
melting snow. Each particle
in twizzle, fizzle, dazzle…
thank God, for sunny days!
A bit of sunshine over at Poets United.
Flanked by latticed limbs,
past twilight to early dawn,
I hear the moaning whimper
bounce about morning wood
quiver in drifting tenor;
as the cadence of my spirit
longs for tepid spring zephyr…
arctic gust prevail, once more.
I button my coat… tight.
pull woolen cap over eyes,
squint, (as if to say something),
but my voice is mislaid in the
chilly breezes blasting from
northlands; where others are
wrapping scarves about necks
wondering where spring went?
Once more an arctic blast is making its way down from Canada. We’ve enjoyed over a week of beautiful weather; now it’s pay-back. Writing about wind over at dVerse later today.
The breath of spring lies deep within my lungs
dances deep eddies, within my inner soul… fills;
where haughty cranes encroach upon sky.
Gangly geese gnaw hungrily on fodder fields
and a deluge of floating ducks dip wanting bills;
in bulging pond waters where live throaty frogs.
March brings a warming within my heart,
as buds burst with life anew and so very still.
Weed’s raggedy heads in ending winter snow
and oak leaves grasp last year’s hope ready
to make room for this year’s promised thrill,
in warming sun and quiet woods on spring day.
“Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Praise the Lord!”
It came quickly after a hard winter, Spring in all its balmy beauty! Praise God for Spring.
Sit still my soul;
palms sway in morning breeze,
blackbird forges lane.
Many tongues clearly speak
I hear past them… to bird song.
A taste of Tanka Form: 5-7-5-7-7 for you today. Despite all the people noises at Disney last week, I was able to get in touch with a bit of nature. Music for my soul. Linking up at dVerse this afternoon…