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284 · Jan 2018
Yesterday
Scolar Jan 2018
Yesterday

Mixing potions of drifted emotions which strayed away in all the commotion.
Usually I stayed away, but today that door had to open!

With a bit of devotion, it finally gave... just to reveal the thought of escape,
I couldn't help but feel exhausted, afraid, anticipating any thought of what could await.

Disaster strikes!
In the form of loss, the loss of yesterday!
While the children play the sky turns grey, and all is lost... for today.

By early morn the next day, the sky turned bright.
And it arrived as no surprise, we know our Star marks the start of each day.
Though amidst the turn of clocks, we forget of yesterday;
To that I say: you should never let a day away.
And never bet on any way that you may have set up yesterday...

Life is water.
It may flow, it may crash.
But life negotiates any obstacle; death is it's only match.

In this life, we use "what was" to establish "what is", and we attempt to become what we should be.
However, rather than what we've been told we should be, look at what we could be!
Not merely a product of yesterday; because every morning, with our Sun, we are born again!
So just as our Star marks the start of each day, so too we mark the day...
But remember, we mark it only after yesterday.
242 · Jan 2018
Grove of a Thousand Trees
Scolar Jan 2018
Within the grove of a thousand trees,
One bird soars, a thousand tweet.
Leaves of green make it out to be
Much more than a grove of a thousand trees.

Within the grove of a thousand trees,
One sour apple, a thousand sweet.
Nature's play, and All is right,
What comes of day lay dead at night.

Within the grove of a thousand trees,
One tree falls, a thousand weep.
One flower nourishes a thousand bees;
The life of the grove is profoundly deep.

All is found, and so it shows in cows and sheep,
When rainclouds form, and burst to meet
The ground of the grove of a thousand trees,
Where all is drowned in one foul sweep.

Give it time, and water leaves,
Or is absorbed by all the trees.
A flooded marsh could never last,
Not in the grove of a thousand trees.

~scolar
2nd poem

— The End —