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jai-rhoPoems
When snowmelt from the highest peaks cascades into valleys below, it rushes down arroyos, leaping over boulders, circling round eddies, and settles into lakes and pools that echo the azure sky Along the way, it finds itself in blades of rising grass, on barren meadow floors and in the roots of ancient trees, that sip no more than they need to fill their budding leaves They emerge slowly, from dormant slumber stretching, like monarch wings unfolding, giving homage to the sun And then they bloom, in vibrant multicolored celebration of the renaissance declaring, the arrival of a new day And they give sustenance to the twigs and branches and the trunks, whose toes reach deep into the soil, and they give themselves to winter's spring And they give themselves to the fleeting wind
0
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
The language of leaves
When snowmelt from the highest peaks cascades into valleys below, it rushes down arroyos, leaping over boulders, circling round eddies, and settles into lakes and pools that echo the azure sky Along the way, it finds itself in blades of rising grass, on barren meadow floors and in the roots of ancient trees, that sip no more than they need to fill their budding leaves They emerge slowly, from dormant slumber stretching, like monarch wings unfolding, giving homage to the sun And then they bloom, in vibrant multicolored celebration of the renaissance declaring, the arrival of a new day And they give sustenance to the twigs and branches and the trunks, whose toes reach deep into the soil, and they give themselves to winter's spring And they give themselves to the fleeting wind
Written by
jai-rho
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
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