wind has vehemence,
all tree branches join issue;
rain lessen the pain!

-A Branch Above-

I fell down in a mad passion,
I wasn't shooting for the stars.
What I was, I forgot,
For I knew
To be free I had to pull apart.

My bittersweet love laid with the grass
And I on a branch above.
'What do we know of the world?'
I asked and asked,
When my love's last smile unfurled.

I fell down into another world,
I never wanted to reach the stars.
I finally let myself crumble in dirt,
Oh the joy!
I couldn't tell you if you asked.

hiver is the french word for it
but sally calls it blanket time
even though it's cold
yes, the trees may shiver
but the snow and ice
just looks like a coat
if one thinks like that
like sally
they are not then cold

You lost me like a tree loses a branch in a storm.

I'm gone.

Now your story is filled with alcohol and nicotine.

Maybe if you believed in me, I'd still be there to fill the void in your heart.

Do not expect a linear path
Nor a strictly circular one
Though you meander one foot to the next
In cyclical, somewhat predictable rhythms.
Do not expect clouds to behave,
Mountains to hold,
Or branches to grow.
Do not expect bridges to stand the test
of time that even trees cannot.
Do not expect your golden shot today
to hold your interest next go round the wheel.
Do not expect a clear and simple reward.
Rather, take what you can,
Whenever you can,
Drink it in,
Make it a part of you
For the next go round.

In Seville

My lock is like a wheel
that treasures the land
with strands of sand now an inroad to soul
in times of grain this platitude of health ahead of tides

the salt on shore implores unfinished deeds
as art deplores any nurturing of needs
with stars out this race beyond the chariot again

and proves that this orient has rightly won a gathering if seed roaring in a stream of catchment nigh
where these overtones are songs
and round about the fields along the Guadalquivir.

I hear the rustling of the leaves colliding upon
the others like a bumper car ride but no one is driving.
Voicing in motions that they are moved silently.

I envision the swaying, like the crest of natures
wave coalescing like feathers in flight anchored
till the season ebbs there dance to a fall.

you are my ripe and tender peach
yet I strain for just one touch
you're too far away for my reach
exhausted I sit down and cry
distance proves to be too much
wow, I wish that I could fly

I take a breath and give a sigh
a mind filled with mists so deep
in a branch you are way up high
wet from my tears I drift asleep

so tightly held in your leaves
I wake with eyes opened wide
you sway under dawns soft light
my excitement I just can't hide
tender peach, my wondrous sight