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On this plane
we are flesh
made from real tears
and freshly spilt blood
we feel the incisions
to the bone
of everyday assaults
some minor
spoken words
some monumental
trauma that leaves
us stifled in our tracks
it's more than a dream
and more like a
never ending nightmare
YOU ARE MY POETRY, YOU ARE MY PROSE,
YOU ARE MY WHITE LILLY,U ARE MY ROSE,!
Healing leaves are now disrobed branches
on the edge of this wilderness.
Many tall Douglas Fir stand sentinel
over 100 foot tall amazing grace — the fleeting leaves
expose the beauty of the moss clad scaffolds
adorned with a lime-grey lichen lace
Nature is my refuge — solid ground to stand
in this harmony and peacefulness.


Jesse Stillwater — December 2018
Left as a comment yesterday, mused by "Healing Leaves" by Reena Sharma:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2843497/healing-leaves/
Do not fear the beauty of death
the black song birds of grey skies
the passing of time
that become memories only the grieving
and eternity will remember

Do not fear the song of the dying
for we all are singing along
even though from time to time
we pretend to forget the words
and dream the foolish dream
of vampires and eternity

Do not fear the mortality
of bones and flesh
for nothing last forever my love
for even time will crumble and fade
and become a memory
only the grieving and eternity will remember

There is nothing to fear in the end
that is not worth living through
and it is only as real as we imagine
so why not imagine a life so full of love
and so beautiful
that death weeps to spread her wings
over our lives we lived so well
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