That horizon
It would've been beautiful
To climb and peek
At its mountain peeks
And at the top to see
All of the breathless heights
Which it would've held

But instead
In the middle of the week
I wed

The spiderwebbed shadows reach
Out like friendly hands
From the feet of trees known only to me
On both this way and in this moment
They grasp at feet belonging to us
And thoughts owned more by me

Yup

Mountain airs
Beautiful trees
Unending ridges
Or winding seas

The colorful furns
The flowery bees
The fallen rains
Or the whispering leaves

No looks
No sights
No sounds
Nor scenes

Can ever keep me from my words
Or yours from my eyes and hopeful promise to me
That if written or not
One day I'll be free

What you see is what you find
And all that is found stretches out
Before you like a flowing sea
Where water meets the grass so green
And trees overhang like homely eaves

Looking onward, openly
Towers look down like big brothers
Skies above stretch out to beyond
Horizons tall and foregrounds close
Close in on sounds of wandering on

The light it captures leaves so green
It fully expresses natures breath
And longs the father of all to breathe
It grows and flows and sings in trees
It whispers nothing comfortably

With rustling, and questioning,
And gentle flying that's above
Like bees

No humming here yet can be heard
Except those song notes softening
Which cannot be seen

Everything that can be seen is blue
And all that lives above is not

With thoughts more vocal than the leaves
Which whisper psalms between the trees
And cast down children onto cattails
By the meadows pond of widowed ease

There is nothing in this something
There are whispers on this breeze
Neath lilly pads above below
Twix fields of flourishing evergreen

A wish is lost in single breath
A butterfly flys beside this me
And climbs on whispy whims which flow
And lives only to leave

A fallen brown cascades to the ground
And rests on subtle grass limbs green

Outlined by brick and sanding stone
These waters whisper back to me
And creek and scream and visually plead
To be set free
By the crash and falling of a tree

But with no storms in sight
So all of this will continue to be
As clearly as this is today
As visibly as my eyes do see

And this is why I speak in poetry

A breath is not a breath without the breathing in, the hearing out
The loneliness of being alone
And the happiness of being free

From all the complications of the indoors
It is out in which I find myself most being

This outline of the trees look up
The blue line of the skies creep down
And ripples like the ponding pound
A note pressed without a single key

I love the way the sun seeps through
The evergreens and sunken weeds
And finds itself on fallen branches
Tucked beneath the grass so tall
And tidied like the clearest stream

But above all else
The more I think about
This wondering, whispering, wispy, wild, whimsical, breeze

I know that it animates and brings to life all of these trees and all of these leaves and all that I see and I am wonderfully thankful for all of these

Please, would you hear it still?
Help me identify each and every one of these?
I know you've seen, just as I see
Where the clouds like to rest
Just above the peaks of man made trees

And all I can see is these
All I can feel is the breeze
And hear is the song of ease
Which flows from nether trees and natures eaves

Please

Tear out my heart like a missing page. I turn and turn to live again.
Her will to read in nature's storm. Once born of being, is there and then.
When your eyesight was ever mine to upend? Or to try and mend.
You see? It never was once me.
That is until your rain begins again. Anew.

Know not what you know, it's true
   Though thoughts are yours
      Are concepts such?
         Is learning found?
            Be it breathed inward by yourself
         Or with locking lips
      No such life and thought
   Must first be instilled by this teaching within you
Ew

I once spoke freely with a joyous ease
A rippling sound which resembled wind
And the breeze in which entanglements kept
These trees her hair leaves even now I see

As nature speaks softly of many things
And calling turns echoes to the hills unseen
Your glance alone in anticipation of what
Still held me motionless as evergreen glades

Your phosphorus glowing eyes of stars
With limpid pools of wonderous means
No more than nothing or something or of
Yes moreso my mind with you how it pleads

For one more just conversation with me
Beneath moon and sky and days without eternity
By the grasp of mother natures ask into air I speak
Begging these eyes for another moment to see

You'd sooner see the ease of shaking the trees
and demanding that the leaves fall
(prematurely)
rather than rushing to find
She who was not ready to be found

These words
Are neither alone
  Nor my own

Having found their way from eyes to ears
From ears to mouth
  And down

No thought original
Ought to be originally found
   When it comes to expression out

We speak
And what we think to be our own
  Is found

Mine are not two eyes of gold
As an ouce of blue more can be found
Don't ask as to where they look around
Every second, of every day, instead
Like a passing light, step inbetween
Ever flashing still, look back at me
In unstumbling step instead stand before
No one else will ever see
Except for thee

A sense of self better known?
Perhaps.
But in the company of those others found, and in the investment free. These betterments and attempted others, will in time, be.
Counted as blessings abound, be they only in the attempt.
In unearthing, we are found or hidden

A human feeling
When left alone
Has no more significance
Than a breeze unseen
Than a wood no longer at ease

But how a human being can howl
And whip round a small meadow of community
When they are displeased
And feeling ever powerless in their small being

What an unseen sight indeed
By their own feelings trapped
If they'd just set themselves free

It is sad
To not see

):

Fear is such a fleeting thing
A dream a dream
And in waking seeing
How's its gone as if it were never in being

But thoughts such as these
Which plague seven times over me
Are so much harder to set free
So much more difficult to let be

I am haunted by possibilities

Moonlight falls
In glorious hues
Of blueberry blue

And settles on roof tiles
Once worn so thin
And installed so new

That an age has since passed
Since the feeling of last
Me atop there with you

Rain knows how to sit so still
Once fallen from grace and gracious sky alike

Yet I
The man who can never stand
To sit for more than a minute still
Or to contain his mind for more than a second alive

Could learn quite a bit from this rain of yours
Not the least of which that it was never mine

How I watch you fall and settle still
Just to listen until I smile wide

And then at last we are at an end
A settling of some mysterous kind

It pleases me to think
That one day I woke up
And with
Whatever coffee I had
Made
The best poetry I would ever sing
And noone heard a sound from me
Not even then
And yet I was free
Completely and indifferently

seeing you
in minds eye now
and your winding ways
of browning trees
makes me remember and breathe
in the taste of cold
which November only knows
and December wishes it could be
(or was)