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 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
Take only what you can carry,
Only what you need.
Just enough to feed and water
You and a faithful steed.

Forget the path well trodden,
That will not help you on your way.
Instead forge your own trail
For others to follow one day.

Never shy from an opportunity
Throw yourself through every door.
For this life is an adventure,
Now go,
Explore!
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
This tree is no evergreen,
Though its roots run as deep
Through emerald soil unseen.
Branches bare witness.
The seasons ebb and flow,
Creaking and curling
While the north wind blows.

Leaves cling for dear life.
Fragile, fading
And yet dancing with light.
They grow and blossom
Only to falter one day.
Crinkled and trodden,
Swept up and blown away.
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
She
She is a rock,
She is a pillar of the sea.
Oblivious to the waves
That crash against her feet.
She stands tall,
Head raised among the clouds,
Weathering the storms
Enduring the droughts.

She stares far unto the horizon,
Surveying all that she can be,
This pillar of rock,
This goddess of the sea.
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
The rain falls in whispers,
Meanders through the
Cracks in our lives.
The sky claps sardonically
Prophetic, pathetic fallacy
Alive and well.
As time swells and breathes
Solaris flares, coughs and heaves.
Scorched earth, ashen leaves.
The rain is gone but so's
The emerald green.
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
Staying up late, so late it's early
Then dreaming long and far.
"Come on, get up you're missing the sun!"
"Ah! But I see so much more of the stars!"
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
His hands are scarred,
Face is a mess,
Too long walking
Through the wilderness.
The bears are hungry
Wolves they howl,
The Levy's breaking
All will
Drowns.
Washed away by savage currents
Watching fallen suns go
Down.
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
Find solace in solitude,
There is no shame in that.
We are unknown to ourselves
An ocean to which we delve.
Scarcely coming up for air,
Entangled in fathoms
Whirlpools of despair.
Waves of introspection
Spare us shallow reefs,
Yet cast us into darkness
And the horrors of the deep.
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
What words would Winter whisper,
When the last warm rays
Of sweet Summer sister
Have shone beyond forgone horizons?
His hands clasp blistered,
Embraced by the rhythm of fate.
Love conquers all but his envy is great,

And it grows,

And it blows,

And the Winds are rising,

Giving voice to once silent trees.
Through the maelstrom
Winter watches.
A feeble man on bended knees
Cradles the embers of fire.
Winter froze with desire
While stunned by despair,
That even man could find warmth
While his sky lay frozen and bare.
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
We are fragile, little things.
Chipped china teacups
In the hands of careless kings.
Caught in the fall,
Cherry blossom dreams,
The sighs of autumn
Keep us aloft on weathered wings.
Tethered to the will of winds
The water shouts and sings.
Overflowing that fragile teacup,
Scalding the hands of world worn kings
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
I see you in the storm
Of rain lashed eyes,
I feel you in the wind
And tumultuous tides.
I see you in the fire
Splendid tendrils of desire,
I hear you in the songs
Of solemn, mournful choirs.

I found you in the stars
Sat upon the shoulders of Orion.
I found you in the shadows
Another lonesome scion.
I found you in the fall,
Leaves encaptured and enthralled.
The weight of an oceans promise,
The allure of waters call.

Yet for all our senses we couldn't see
The sense of foreboding melancholy.
That which was found in the depths of the sea
You found it all,
All except for me.
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
She gazed out long and far,
Past half closed curtains  
And dozing, docile cars.
Witness to a world double glazed
Dampened by a passing rain.
Sound drowned still by fragile,
Stained glass pane.

Skies lay grey, like every other day,
Shrubs shrug and trees sadly sway.
She feels for the trees,
(And to an extent the shrub)
They're not so different from you or I.
We all plant roots, grow, love?

Thoughts disturbed by a startled dove,
Flew the coup, done, had enough,
Rose as Icarus toward the sun.
Basked in light of new found freedom.

Never heard the hunters gun.
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
April showers on the hair of fools.
The lost and the forsaken,
The blind and worthy too.
Sodden to the bone bleached
Follicles of folly.
Spring feints and fakes,
Flash of sun, lone melancholy.
Forgotten light is left to linger
Behind a promenade of clouds,
Veiled in the shroud of a harsh midwinter.
 Jan 2023
Rob Rutledge
The wise are always troubled
And the troubled seldom sleep.
For the path is dark,
The shadow's deep.
The past imparts pressure,
Weary woe-marked feet.

The pillow lays drenched.
Sweat beads billow flames of fear.
The sound of all our choices
Rung clear for all to hear.
The cries of countless voices
Found close to passing ears
But ghosts weep most in whispers,
Lest the living hear their tears.
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