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as if one summer night would
   stop to kiss the cheek of winter
        winter
   my sandaled feet chill,
       awash in starlight
   the waves, like a slivered memory
       pure and silver,
       carry the faint heartbeat
      of many things come and gone
summered waters blow through
   their courses of hair
   in soft syllables to the ear
   they touch stones of fire
   alive in the eyes of the mind
how many hearts or ripples
   of moonlight have walked here?
   here, where new clouds breach
       ancient skies and stones
       of rivers of many things
           come and gone
   smooth and silver are the drops
       of time, which wash
       slivered memories
           of summer
   by the light of a cool moon
There as I sat it spoke to me,
   this wall of asymmetric cracks.
Its faded, soaked cement remained.
   Its light red bricks answered back.
Past these chips of aged white
   the blue sky hung with wispy cloud.
A distant bird with creeping weeds
   through ancient windows spoke aloud.
Here light enfolds these steps of prayer
   where new fresh grass is listening.
The hedges kept with varied plants
   in waving breezes are glistening.
This ruined wall tells its story
   of faded asymmetric glory.
I walked along a quiet shore
   and wanted not a beauty more,
when lo, behold, near rocks and sand
   a tree stood there, perfectly planned.
Its feet were buried in glistening waves.
   The sun was lapping moss and age.
Its hands and fingers watching ever
   carefully. Its break came never.
A grizzled white in bark that shines,
   an emerald green moss dressed like vines,
a deep and stalwart blue in motion
   framing ageless tree-shaped notions.
Stopping once to glance I thought
   a moment passing, freely bought,
a gift in fact when glance and glance
   became a more meditative stance.
A perspective in my mind was growing,
   deeply, newly, freshly knowing,
standing there to watch time passing,
   leaves changing, questions asking,
peaceful still with answers fleeting,
   we, the tree and I, were meeting.
Tyler C Nelson May 2018
a misty start
   with worlds to go
a walk through forest,
   desert, snow
with altitude
   and dizzy joy
a challenge which
   my strength employs
a peaceful summit
   waiting warm
where thought and poetry
   find form
from near the sun
   our minds turn
to worlds below
   we will return


-TylerN @ 10,040 feet, 2018.05.12
Tyler C Nelson May 2018
i watch a snowflake falling in spring
and running by i hear a thought of slowing
as time remembered sweetly sings

a melody so distant yet so clear
futures intertwined with present here
a dance of possibilities shimmers
on the edges of snowflake washed by my tears

my joyful heart is deepening to pause
and wonder at these feelings’ artful cause
the weight of all these possible paths
is floating lightly in the breeze

i watch a snowflake falling in spring
and running by i think of slowing
as time remembered sweetly sings

— The End —