Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
ryn Feb 2019
I often see myself...

Sitting in the shade
of a lone old tree
set in the middle of a field,
on a warm, breezy afternoon.

Leaning upon the trunk,
I’d feel its gnarly bark
gently pressing into the softness
of my back.
Making it seem as though
in turn, the tree, too,
leaned on me.

As my fingers play
with the tips of grass
that grew lush around me,
I’d think of people I know.
And whom amongst them
would share this joy like I would.

I would spend many moments
concocting poetic lines in my head;
As my eyes trace the haphazard
flight of butterflies.

An occasional gust would come
and sweep up
the fragrance of nature into the air.

I inhale...

Sweetness...

It lingers strong for a brief moment
before receding into the folds
and blending in with the smell
of the earth and freshly trodden on
grass.

Such a day would only induce
calmness and peace.
Such a thought would seem too far
to grasp.
But such a dream keeps me
hoping.
ryn Jan 2019
We all negotiate this precipice
In a file towards the same.

Some walk, some tiptoe.
We do it in our own way.

We all roll the dice.
We all progress different,
when we play this game.

But in the end we’d be together...
Sharing the ground we shall sparsely lay.
ryn Jan 2019
They say we are but leaves.

Unwittingly we waiver
with the slightest caress from the sun.
With excitement we shudder,
when given a sliver of attention
from the moon.
And we rustle
with childlike glee,
when the daytime breeze
whispers its secrets playfully.

We dance, gambol and frolic...
As we celebrate our flightiness of spirits
in exuberant jubilee.

Because today...

We are welcomed here.
We are children of the world.
Seedlings of the universe.

And we revolve around a nucleus,
an anchor,
a steadfast tree..

That is you...
ryn Jan 2019
Are we worthy
of passing eyes

Do we catch
the stealing glances

Will we save
our world from demise

Can we not
be afraid of taking chances
ryn Jan 2019
Will you be the ears?
The ears to my words.

Will you be the eyes?
The eyes to my falls.

Will you be the shoulder?
To which I depend on.

Will you be the listener?
And hear my calls.
ryn Dec 2018
Proverbial rod
cast into the night

With hope and longing
dangled as bait

Encapture what answers
hidden from sight

Time’s almost up,
as dawn awaits at the gate
ryn Dec 2018
Come morning
their innocent eyes would ask
the most difficult of questions.

My heart would stall.
My tongue would stiffen.

And my eyes would answer back
with tears.
Next page