Grace

2d

zoe

Shadows dance along walls
Cold, undulating fire
Threatens to suffocate
My thoughts,—I go on walks
Outside, the golden leaves
Know how to be better.

A dormant forest sees
Balance between forces,
Ever-changing seasons,
The purposeful movement
Of critters and giants.

Is the forest moral?
Wolves know moderation
Better than most of us.
My reason breaks:
Do humans still bother
With being good
These days?

#morality #golden #nature

Grace 2d

gold

Hillsides of endless green roll
like clouds before a storm,
but they are stilled by the mountain.
And within that valley, a boy no more than what life's made of him yet:
he will go on to foreign places and make them home,
grow into a place that he does not know,
build things, and a family. And he told me of that merry place
locked into the ether,
where a teacher made honey from the bees and gave a jar to his mother,
a gift. For nothing, for they were poor and so was the teacher,
and the honey was gold in his mother's hands.

3d

Vianne Lior

Petals on a Distant Tide

Glass lilies drift slow,
a koi swims through pale reflections,
stars ripple, then break.

#haiku

3d

Vianne Lior

Heaven’s Origami

A thousand cranes rise—
dawn spills gold along their wings,
the sky folds open.

#haiku #cranes #origami

Feb 11

Nancy Maine

Requiem for the Moonlit Snow

Beneath a silver sky, so still,
The forest whispers, soft and chill,
Where moonlight kisses every tree,
And snowflakes dance in quiet glee.

A silver veil on earth is spread,
Each flake a dream where light is led,
A thousand stars, within their flight,
Are mirrored in the snow's pure light.

Soft candles flicker, casting glow,
On blankets of untouched, quiet snow,
And in the stillness, deep and true,
The spirit enraptured, gazes through.

For this is a moment far too sweet,
Where time and soul in silence meet,
A requiem in the glow of night,
A prayer, a peace, a soft delight.

May it linger in the mind, the eyes,
A tear that speaks of moonlit skies;
For beauty like this, pure and deep,
Is a light to stir the soul from sleep.

And in the silence, soft and deep,
The spirit stirs, begins to creep;
Drawn upward by the moon’s soft glow,
Where dreams are born, and secrets flow.

Grace Feb 9

angel in the night

The succor of strumming overtakes her
as the moon climbs high;
if she plays late enough, she will not sleep,
will let hours slip by,
will become midnight's muse, or something else ---

another song for the morning

Grace Feb 7

someone you'd admire

I'm asking genuinely now, not that I ever knew
to be true, it is hard though plain;
it is phone calls in the summer, on the cusp of rain
and glad to know you do not see my face, although
my voice gave me away within that hour (or two?)

I walk with others in me yearning to get out / Claw at my skin and gnash their teeth and shout / One of them wants only to be someone you'd admire / One would as soon just through you on the fire (fleet foxes)