River sparkles under scowling sky
Flowing curves
Serpentine sweepings
Amidst steel and concrete.

I lived in a ghetto box here.
Nothing is permanent.

Let’s go
in a boat
through secret underground streams
to that place
deep beneath parkland roots
of elm, ash and hazel
where wise old rocks
with lime green beards
sit still in wisdom.

Do they envy us movement?
Moss is slippy underfoot.
Nothing is permanent.

Let’s alchemise emotions of liquid
Peel off layers
Abandon those old world clothes in a pile
Slip
naked
into pure warm water

Soak
in a healing cave
of glowing amethyst
Until
Through a crack in the crystal
We enter a shaft of light
Magnificent and frightening
Then emerge
into pastel skies
Return to earth
Boisterous
Forever transformed by the fusion
Welcomed back
By a squelching piano
Made of our ancestors’ mud
To play
To sing
To be.

Serenity

Each footstep heard as though it is the only human imprint
On a land left unmarked by our presence
The stillness in the air as if wind did not exist
I gaze upon a frozen lake far and wide with nothing but ice
A white dusting like that of icing sugar on a cake for a topping
Covering imperfections caused by occasional crags bursting forth
Mother Nature showing she has been here
Birds wisp before me, displaying her colorful art
A robin and its orange belly, a red cardinal, a blue jay
Birds chirping to a rhythmic tune interrupted by
The hoot of an owl or a woodpecker hard at work
Amidst this display footprints leave a puzzle to be solved
Deer and wild turkey presence is easily identified
But what of those others, may they be fox, wolf or coyote
Are they nearby watching or on a distant foray
Moving between trees eyes ahead the cracking of branches
A signal to all ahead of my progress
An invader to be respected
Each step forward deeper into an array of trees
Maples, oaks, cedar, poplar, elm, pine, spruce
A cornucopia of height, width and breadth
Deeper into the forest I move alone-ness envelopes me
Yet this is where I find serenity
Amongst those not of my species
Alone but not lonely

Andreas Simic©

The wind will blow,
And a seed will fall,
And its head will peek,
From the ground below.

And the sun will shine,
With his rays so bright,
And the sprout will grow,
In the friendly light.

And the days will pass,
And the nights grow cold,
But the young tree stands,
Through the icy snow.

For the rain may fall,
And the sun not show,
But the tree will wait,
For its time to grow.

And the birds will nest,
And the squirrels will climb,
And they always return,
Time after time.

For when sky is gray,
And cold rain falls,
Through weather harsh,
The tree stands tall.

But the wind will blow,
And the tree will fall,
With a thunderous crash,
And a mournful call.

now that i've forgiven you
it's time for me to apologize
for putting you on that pedestal
that was so very high
it hurt when you fell off.