our celestial protector.
She cradles us in her branches and reaches
us towards the Sun. She fertilized us
as young seeds before the harvest. Feeding
us the fruits from her feet. We breathe in the oxygen
she filters through her brown barked body.
Suckle at her breasts for air.
Like our mother, we too are rooted
in soil, nourished, and nurtured by her
natural nutrition and her
throws us from her
branches, her skies grow grey.
Grow angry and sad. She starts to
cry, growling, thrashing and thundering.
Her winds whip us, whirl us we weave back and forth,
trusting the roots she gave to hold us
down in our foundations.
But the ground beneath our soles start to
shake and rumble. Soaked soil from Mother’s cries, turn
to mud, and our world starts to wash us away.
She drowns us. Mother Earth,
Our God is a wondrous God
he is the creator
there isn’t anyone greater
he’s created the earth
and the constellations
he produced everything original
anything and everything we need
with only a handful of seed
he held in the palm of his hand
seeds of other planets
and seeds of a distant star
everything we see
and everything we are
he marveled at the seeds of life
he held in his palm
and when the winds were calm
he blew the seeds upon the land
into the seas
and across the sand
he’s created everything we see
and everything we are
from our home planet
to the distant star!
They sow the seeds of doubt,
Where wars began, there is nowt,
on the world's stage,
There's much to ponder,
On the future yonder,
No longer a slogan,
Who sells the uranium?
Oz is sowing the seeds of doubt,
Where wars began, there'll be nowt!
When I look back at the things I had
The things that now are gone
I was planting seeds of division
But the trees grew tall and strong
I used to see for miles around
But now the forest grows
Beneath the shade of branches
Are secrets no one knows
At first it was a place to hide
An oasis on barren lands
But holding on to a past that's gone
Was just leaving time on my hands
For years I must have wandered
Abandoning all that was good
I thought I knew my way out
But now I'm lost in the woods
This is probably one of my favorite poems I have written. I came to this site as a musician on hiatus looking for a creative outlet in life. This was the first poem where I felt as I wasn't a musician writing poems, but a poet. Thank you so much for your support and here's to many future works from myself and from all of you as well! :)
- The Mysidian Bard
this is all i know:
i love you like a flower. together we've planted the seed of love, and i can't wait to watch it bloom and grow with time. i know you can't grow without sunshine and rain so i'll be here for the happy days and the sad days.
Over your clouds of grief,
Shine like the perennial sun.
Weep, cry, let them leak down,
Do not just let your tears be brief.
Remember the seeds you have sown,
You will get their produce as the relief.
Forget love as for you it just is not made.
He's better than I am.
Kinder, wiser, much more patient...
It's the patience and kindness that I can't help but envy
I'm so quick to judge.
Others must earn my kindness.
He's one of the rare and beautiful souls that will leave the world better than he found it
It's in his nature to plant seeds in every footstep,
While others trample life beneath them.
He's the Greek goddess who was so lovely that flowers sprung up wherever she went.
But he's different.
He's beautiful on the inside
He leaves something substantial in his path.
Flowers are pretty and fleeting,
but he plants oak trees behind him.
The trees he leaves thrive for centuries, they grow tall and strong and beautiful
Generations upon generations see his trees and they love them
He will leave forests in his wake and maybe no one will know that these forests are his...
But that's not why he leaves them.
Planting seeds in his footsteps is in his nature and I believe that's why I might love him.
Rain drops are falling,
They don't make a sound,
They bury their way,
Deep into the ground.
Where sick seeds lay furled,
And no one can see,
The beginning of sprouts,
That will form the tree.
Where butterflies flutter,
In a forgotten place,
And inside the caverns,
A storm you must face.
But for now more silence,
The quiet is your friend,
To tear you apart,
Or to help you to mend.
I imagine her night –
her winter, her dark – better
defined your light,
the same way black velvet
offers a showy diamond.
full of beans,
along with mine,
full of shrieks,
seeds we’ve germinated.
Yours is tall and yellow;
mine blue and pensive.
dream a garden for them.