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The Terry Tree Dec 2014
Nature is ancient
It is in everything we see
It is the chair your sitting on
It is the air from which you breathe

Nature is paramount
It is the beginning of our climb
It is the mother of technology
It is the father of all time

Nature is nurturing
It is a gift from the eternal one
It is the moon and all the stars
It is the flames of our great sun

Nature is magnificent
It is the essence of our days
It is the dawning of our future
It is the child that we must raise

Nature is nourishing
It is in all the food we eat
It is in every song we sing
It is in every heart that beats

Nature is branches
It is the spirit of family
It is our sacred roots
It is the seed becoming tree

Nature is powerful
It is the storm under the sea
It is the whirlpool in the sky
It is the hand I'm offering

Nature is friendship
It is the promise that we keep
It is the colors that surround us
It is the bed in which we sleep


© tHE tERRY tREE
Kenshō Dec 2014
Once upon a time, a long time ago, there were people  who believed in laughter,  joy and love. They believed in many deities,  but the most important to them was their Great Mother Goddess. They believed in and lived with the powers of Nature. They reveled in the Wind,  the Rain, the Snow and the Sunlight. They marveled at and  revered  the changing of the seasons and saw  therein  great excitement  and  wisdom to be gained. They knew  that  if  they
tended,  cared  for  and  loved the Earth,  in return  She  would provide for,  care for and love them.   They saw that all  around them  the  world was filled with Life,  much as their own but  in many  different and wonderful forms.   They felt the life of  the flowers,  plants  and  trees  and respected them  for  that  life essence.   They  looked about and observed all the many types  of animals  and saw that they were kindred to them and  loved  them.  They  felt  and observed the great Love of the Goddess all  about them  and knew kinship with the Moon.   They were practioners  of
The Old Religion, worshipers of The Great Mother!
Something I am reposting - I found it on the web. It is important to me. =)
positrxnicbrain Nov 2014
Every time I look into the mirror,
I see it in my face
I'm possessed by the goblin child
Who'll destroy the human race, though,
I haven't forgotten hope
I know the ancient lore,
God will strike me down
To Hell, forevermore
Bryan J Townsend Nov 2014
when can i go back home
to those lovely memories
where we spent hours in
those ancient cemeteries
so dead,
so alive,
we think,
we feel,
we bear,
we loved
it there.
Amitav Radiance Oct 2014
Visit to the land of antiquity
Kept alive through words
Best describes the tales
Which were narrated once
Reading them
And transported there
Fascinated by legends
Ageless and frozen in time
A fascinating word museum
Takes us back to antiquity
Rachel Olivia Sep 2014
Strong music lilts over foggy hills
A bird flies overhead, it's tune being shrill
And with these words my heart seems to fill;
"This is your home. Your ancient home."

A tall, mighty castle rises over the moors
And a strong ocean's waves on the rocks are torn
Somehow, I know here my heart was born;
"This is your home. Your ancient home."

Strong Celtic music floats over the trees
A dancing in my heart just wants to be free
I whisper as I look at the tossing seas;
"This is my home. My ancient home."
My heritage is Sweedish, Scottish, English, and Irish. I've always felt close to those countries, their traditions, and music in my heart.
RW Dennen Aug 2014
Ancient trees of majesty
   why reach your arms in excellency?
Why skim the clouds and pierce the stars,
    to stand so bold as warrior Mars?
Why be a thing of children's play,
     and watch the scene where lovers lay?
  Why touch the hearts of young and old?
      Why change your leaves from green to gold?
   Why dip your arms in pools below
       and float your leaves as falling snow?
    Why whistle tunes on winds of high
         why whistle tunes as winds go by?

     I waited from dawn to dusk you see
     for these ancient trees soon whispered to me

      We grasp the day
      We grasp the night
      We grasp the fowl on earnest flight

       You give us  breath which we repay
            we mold your health in loving way
        We climb these hills and mountaintops
             and spread our green as greenery crops
          We house these creatures in wooden shacks
              and feel the cut of the woodmen's axe
          We watch the peace and wars go by
               and suffer pestilence without a cry
            We dance and sway on winds of old
                to tell our stories far untold..

This is a lyrical poem which can be accommodated by
       Enya's "The memory of trees"
Author of poem is--RW Dennen of Hello Poetry
Thank you kindly
This was my first poem written around 1965.
I was working for GOOD HUMOR on an ice cream truck.
I worked in Merchantville and Pensauken NJ.
On my lunch breaks I would awe at nature because I ate in
wooded areas best way to digest food around silence away
from the hustle and bustle...
Ray Aug 2014
A bolt of lightning
in the distance
lights up the cloudy night
with the memory
of ancient fires,
and the scarlet memories
of ancient agony
dim and fade
suddenly awake.

The lightning,
a giant crack
in the floodgate
that holds back time.
And time,
like a loose gown
slips off her body
and the memories of
her savage beauty ignite
the ancient pine,
leaving behind charred wood
dark like the scars
on her wrinkled skin
and the imaginary warmth
melts into the night.


And she cries out
in craving memory
of the withered giants
who in times
long before civilization
stood amidst the molten rocks
and tamed her fire down
with their strength
and their flutes.
And her cry
shatters the lullabies
and runs through the night
like a beast in searing pain.
And the wind runs wild
through the woods
like the hands
that once stroked her hair
and a sudden serenity
wraps her aged soul.
Published: Efiction India
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