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I wish for the ability to see through eyes of passion
looking inward
where it can be as warm and fragrant as spring
when the air is heavy
and the birds share secrets
not meant for me to know.

And it can be as desolate
as the city's midnight sky
when the clouds seem to sink into heaven's underground.

How beautiful is this?
Granting me the pleasure of the imaginary.
But still I can't keep from wondering...

How beautiful is poetry
when words are pebbles in your shoes?

How beautiful is freedom
when held in the hands of the clock tower?

How beautiful is peace
when it slips your grasp like the streams' fish?

The answer lies in how we allow our eyes to see,
whether it be our mind, our heart, or our soul.

The hard part is knowing the difference.
The scattered tree's remains
frame the path from whence it came,
dampened in the warm, evening rain,
guiding the lonesome to self-blame.

Desperately, it's pleading commences
yearning hopelessly for soul sustenance.
It finds solace in expressing intensely,
and all those near fear it's immensity.

It's earthen skin moans,
bears cracks in it's bones,
weary cries gone silent,
but it's strength overgrown.

In it's roots it takes hold
to reconcile what it's forsaking,
endeavor painstaking, uncontrolled,
for true giving is absent of retaking.

Dulled are it's eyes
where they once had glow,
pathetic manifestations unfold
where it's reflection once resided.

And smoke swirls in the cavity
where the flames once warmed,
replaced by fiery, stinging swarms
creating turmoil in it's depravity.

Wounds young and sweltry,
the blood flow sustains,
no vestige of remedy,
enduring the pain.

Like a mangled, broken ship at sea
into terrorizing waves of atrophy
embracing water, drowning,
sinking, it helplessly flounders.

Never ceasing,
waves increasing
breath releasing,
mind's eye teasing.

Waters rise,
whispered cries,
painfully asphyxiating...

It lets go, floats towards the coursing,
waving, crashing surface,
aching for air.

Choppy waters, throwing,
forcing to and fro,
it fiercely presses on
and hears the thunder.

Lightning cracks through air and sky,
the bright light lingers in its eyes,
the thunder mutes all other sounds,
it's inner storm seems to subside.

The thunder rolls to the horizon,
and the rain lifts to gentle patters,
the mangled, tattered tree has wizened,
what once ravaged no longer matters.

Peace within and peace without,
forgiveness given, boundless grace.
It's world is light and free again,
though it knows there's more it has to face.

For now, a lightness' been endowed,
it dances with joy and loves out loud.
It knows the storms will always come,
but through them all, who it'll become
is worth the ravaged, aching pain,
and comes out stronger, wiser, and changed.
Kylie Hailstone Jul 2013
The rusty orange color
spotted with browns
clinging to life,
floating gently to the ground

wrinkled and crinkled
the leaf feels like leather
slowly it's dying
it's only the weather

such a lonely time of year;
the trees without leaves
they dry up and shrivel
being blown 'round my feet

as I watch them dancing
in the sharp cold breeze,
stinging my cheeks
and shaking my knees.

Pumpkin seed scent;
the smell of Fall
sprinkled sunlight
splashes them all.

yellows, reds and purples
the colors of their death,
so beautiful to our eyes
but to our hearts, maybe not yet.
Kylie Hailstone Jun 2013
Lonesome, sustenance impaired,
Whispers echoed, undeclared,
Overlooked and unprepared,
Caught off guard, and somewhat scared.

Regarded gone, inanimate,
Benevolence inadequate,
Self destruct, abandonment,
My ego, my antagonist.

Recreant, my feet retreat,
Unable to admit defeat,
Somber skies, distant concrete,
Starlight shows abyssal streets.

Breezes flurry overhead,
Strands are stirring 'round my head,
My minds museful heed misread,
Wet streams down cheeks of words unsaid.

Legs fixed in place eternally,
Sunrise peaks beauty fervently,
Night's thoughts now an absurdity,
Abstain death's fall remorsefully.
Kylie Hailstone Jun 2013
Self deceived, I squander marrow,
I masquerade the straight and narrow,
Seasons stretched, my essence hollows,
Desire, dreams and purpose follows.

My journey dulled by everyday,
Monotony, days veiled in grey,
Life's sombre ruin underway,
Significance, my yesterday.

Deceit defends; my bow and arrow,
Mentality in disarray,
Love recedes, eternal sorrow,
Vitality wearing away.

Before me you materialize,
Rescuer, hero undisguised,
Bore truth, bore love, to my surprise,
Abetted, found what underlies.

Imminent growth, restored, I ascend,
Weakness' welcomed, defenses end,
No longer wish to play pretend,
More pleased than I could comprehend.

Discovered where desire lies.
Forever impassioned, we transcend
Forsaw my future in your eyes,
My flame, my lover, my best friend.
Kylie Hailstone Jun 2013
Close your eyes.
Forget what surrounds you,
Lose all sense of your body
but not your heart,
the sound of your breath, alone,
in your ears,
attention given to the cold
sharp draw into your lungs.

Only your mind exists,
your lungs,
and your heart.

Imagine a single tree.
no wide open sky to make it small,
no solid, cold ground to keep it supported
no world at all to distract from it's presence.
Just a tree.
A fall tree.

Imagine that the wind you feel
on your cheeks
and through your hair
is blowing through the leaves.
They fly off their branches,
free from their burdening green life
that kept them grounded.

Feel their happiness
as they're flying away,
free to go
wherever the wind will take them
and the best part,
they are unique.

No longer green
like all the others
but letting their
colors shine through,
to be different.

Now open your eyes.
Kylie Hailstone Jun 2013
Salt-filled air bites at the senses
as water from above and below
woven together in intense immersion
with an imminent addition
to the ocean's continuing collection of structures,
made of the forests' dead,
and interlacing spines from branches,
given no chance to grow.

Now only to be resting miles below their home,
standing meekly against the current of the deep.

Saturated skies echo sadness from the sea,
while man's eye only grazed
upon the shore
before remorseless waters' waves
tumble and lure to underwater graves.

The sharp cold of the evening sky's drizzle
dissipates the day's warmth.
The sun recedes beyond,
sinking beneath the bottom of the sky,
and leaves the scene at peace
as if no one were ever there.
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