spring

  • Random Fours

    It’s a creators wild whim
    To fill us full of thoughts and dreams
    Let us wander through a life of never knowing
    Where the start is, where the end lands where we’re going

    —-/////—-

    It was spoken in a near voice
    That the wolf would have no choice
    But the raising hair would come
    And the hunt must hungry drone

    —-////—-

    In a deft stroke of nature
    The cataclysm falls upon the land
    Rising birds into the upper atmosphere
    Dropping them like rain

    —-////—-

    We are but pollen on the spring air
    Wandering the cyclic sundry
    Landing with hopes and intention
    Procreating in favor of the mission

    —-////—-

    I left the halls of mourning
    To begin a new loves day
    Dropping slowly all I carried
    Lest the heavy be what my burdened way

  • Brown is Fire

    Why does brown makes me think of fire?
    Even though black or red
    Should take care of that better.
    It doesn’t matter
    It’s what the dream said.
    As I was laying in bed
    The world was descending upon me
    As I was rising to the surface.
    “Brown is the color of fire”

    Is it the end of Autumn
    That makes me think of losing everything.
    But it’s the start of Spring
    When everything is new and green.
    Do these words try to convey
    Some meaning some command to obey.
    Or is it just a dream to be lived as a dream.

    In colors in fire.
    In everything that mixes together
    When I’m away in the hills of slumber
    I see and hear things better

  • Denouement

    An absurd explosion comes Spring.
    Waking violently from her primal sleep.
    Forcing everything out from its decay.
    Into the burning flash.

    Suddenly there is communication
    The air conducts in our favor.
    No two blades of grass alike.
    No souls to occupy the same space.

    Deep deep beneath the winters’ woe
    I managed to stay warm
    The thought of Spring ignited hope.
    Desperation turns to solar flares.

    Incantations are new to be heard
    Floating up from waking spirits.
    A loving denouement cascades
    The formula is tested once again
    And once again chaos fails.
    The blessed circle is closed
    Overlapping with sameness
    Infinitely growing new.