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Claire S Mar 2010
The water’s new
Purpose is to carry the old salmon into the Earth.
To harbor the young, watch them grow,
Show them the ways and streams of life.
It brings them with current’s flows
Down the river where the flow recycles.

After the offspring are born, their body recycles
Into the river where the new glimmering fish swim up stream in a new
Trail. A river that curves like a beaten path pushes down on the fish when it flows
Underneath the soil and Earth.
This is where the lowest forms of life
Live in the dark and cold but always grow.

As I age, I grow
When I die, my body recycles.
I realize that I know how to love life.
I will come back replenished and new.
My body is one with the Earth,
My spirit roams and flows.

I am the river in the morning rays of sun that flows,
I am the blooming golden sunflower will grow,
I am the animal of all different shapes and sizes that belong to the Earth.
I live because of the recycles,
Like the grass that is long and not new.
I am all of nature’s life.

Soft, mossy grass that I step on is pulsing with life.
It moves and flows
In and out of the old and new.
With its knowledge it learns to grow.
It creates, destroys, and recycles
Land, rivers, oceans, and the Earth.

My sun streaked curls lay gently on the Earth
As I hear the ground race and scurry with life.
The past turns, contracts, and recycles.
A faint thunder of the brook is heard as it bends and flows.
Here in the trees, I have watched the young fledglings grow,
I let myself go, as I turn my body in and turn old to new.

The sun comes up new and warm. It heats the Earth
As it grows in the sky and brings the plants to life.
When the sun goes down, the moonlight flows and the sky recycles.
This is a poem that I wrote for school. Please comment

Copyright 2010
Claire S Mar 2010
DING ****
The warning sign has been rung.
The sun has shone.
The birds have sung,
But now it’s all over.

DRIP DROP
The rain has fallen.
Child has cried
Men confessed to lies.
Flowers have been planted
The snow has melted,
But now it’s all over.

TICK TOCK
Friendship has gone.
Wars have been won.
The fight has been long.
Day turned to night
Night turned to day
Let’s end this fight.
Before it’s too late.
This is a poem about being friends with someone before the opportunity passes you by.

— The End —