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gazing at this man
i notice
behind his eyes
you can see
the way he loves is almost like wind and rain.

it is soft and gentle,
pure and fearless,
passionate but innocent.

as he looks up
gaze meeting mine
i hope
his wind and rain
longs for my earth and fire.
elemental love
Chloe Peacock Feb 26
Twisting, turning, churning, swirling
My heart is a maelstrom
Consuming emotion
Twisting endlessly  
Swirling perpetually  
Tossing on the water
A beautiful, impassioned, blue maelstrom.

Twisting, turning, churning, swirling  
My heart is a leaf
Consuming peace
Hovering incessantly
Soaring tirelessly  
Tossing in the wind  
A beautiful, tranquil, green leaf.

Twisting, turning, churning, swirling
My heart is a blaze  
Consuming wrath
Flaming constantly  
Combusting continualy  
Tossing in the fire
A beautiful, violent, red, blaze

Twisting, turning, churning, swirling,
My heart is a stone
Consuming structure  
Tumbling boundlessly
Crumbling unendingly  
Tossing on the earth
A beautiful, exact, brown, stone.
Keiya Tasire Jan 17
I stand with roots deep into my mother
With branches out stretching towards my father
And Light from the rising sun reflecting within my eyes.

Machi curing, Machi healing,
I sing your song. I feel your love.
Mi Pachamama
So full of love
Your flow of life, ever flowing
Your river of sound, ever singing
Your stream of light, forever shinning.
How can I ever cry when I am within your arms?

Arising with the warming sun
Flowing through the air on the breath of her winds
So softly the clouds release her love
As they are caressed by the tops of her mountains.

Her waters of love flowing…
Trickling down onto the forest
Gathering into the brooklets,
Streams, riverlets, and rivers
Satisfying the thirst of all her creations.

The sound of pan flutes filling my ears
The dance of chi coursing through
Even this body, this gift, this flesh.
Singing her lullaby
Embracing & soothing this tired soul.
Softly the winds bring the colors
Of her song into my beating heart.

Machi soothing
Machi healing. Machi Curing
Machi, singing me well with Her love
Mi Pacha Mama , so full of love
Your flow of life, ever flowing
Your river of sound, ever singing
Your stream of light, forever shinning.
How can I ever cry when I am within your arms?

Healing, Soothing, Curing, Love
I sing your song. I sing your love
Mi Pacha Mama…
We are each born and sustained by elements of the earth. We are born from the earth that gathered within our mother's wombs and sustained by the plants, airs, water, minerals, and the warm life giving rays of the sun. One day we will give our body back to the earth as our spirits soar towards the heavens where our Father in Heaven and Mother Earth reside.
Verdant Quo Nov 2018
With iron in our blood and water in our eyes
It’s hard to explain why death we cannot defy

Because the metal that’s made us is just rearranged dirt and dust
As we as a society are ****** forward by scientific wanderlust

Perpetual drive to figure out what is human while forgetting to be a person
But the human condition worsens as we evolve to a certain urban version

A claimed advanced people with brain and brawns for power
It becomes easy to forget nature’s showers; the trees and flowers

Never forget your origins. Never forget where you come from
The Earth that made you isn't just a drum for you to beat with your thumb

With iron in our blood and water in our eyes
We lose our elemental touch as the world continues to cry
Elizabeth Brown Oct 2018
He says I smell like rain,
so to complement me he smells of
freshly washed stone.
Dust rising in the air,
sometime in April,
when my showers have cleansed him.
We are not the same person.
He is grounded,
I live in the air
'til I come crashing to the ground,
where he waits for me.
They say water will break earth.
He's broken me instead,
in the most beautiful way,
and together we will create mountains;
Unscalable and true,
Deep and ancient and wise.
And when we are dead
we will stand monumented.
Our journey through life,
when he was rough
and I was a storm
of fury and form,
and you will remember us.
This was written about my ex-fiance 28/4/17.
Julian Delia Jan 2018
(campfire poetry) WE ARE FIRE, WE COULD BE WATER

Flickering, fluttering, licking all it touches
Through another log it goes;
Spreading warmth, consuming everything,
Atoms and particles
Splitting and shifting in throes.

Fascination, energy at its purest.
An open flame, made malleable
By the hands that feed it or quench it.
There is no greater exhibition
Of something as infallible
In its awe-inspiring might
It is an eternal fight
Between that which is to be consumed
And that which is to be construed
Into something new, and different.

And so, we are one with the element
That awes us and terrifies us at the same time.
Our life is built
On the graveyard of our ancestry;
Our homes are powered
Through the sacrificial burning of past lives.
The food we eat is life from our perspective,
Yet it is death itself for all else.
The trees we cut down, the animals we torture,
The lives we take, the populations we uproot;
Our way of life is an endless reenactment
Of an ant being crushed by a boot
No life is sacred, all can be loot.

We are fire, we could be water;
A more gentle element than most.
A soothing, balming agency
Like the overachiever who dares not boast.
Both are harmful in excess,
Both can be destructive,
Only one is restorative.

And so, we choose to be fire;
We torch, burn, consume,
Until all that is around us
Transitions to its post-human state.
A lifeless mass of black and grey,
An emotionless, bottomless decay.

Alas, as these ruminations grind to a halt,
I find myself desperately looking for the fault
That has created the chasm that brought us here.
Where exactly did we go wrong?
How did we go from being masters of our fate
To this dark, ominous presence
That shrouds all there is?

The Renaissance, the Enlightenment,
and all the revolutions that were and will be;
The great men and women who dedicated their lives
For a better future.
To you, we should apologise - although it wasn't all in vain,
There still is a thousand-mile journey
One that has not gone very far.

And so, we choose to be fire,
When we could be water...
A poem about fire, written next to one.
some of us are bog people
we live with the snails and the maggots
making bacteria
we're suckers for substance
the dirt speaks to us
some of us are bog people
we hang with the microorganisms
making pilgrimages
we're slimey silt and silage
full-tilt and raw
the dirt wants us

dig it or dig it not
we can't help it
some of us are just bog people
spending time in a natural environment, hills, fields, mountains, sea, sky, woods, dogs, rats, , sheep, cows, horses; watching the insects and flies doing their day inspired the above............the comparisons to us humans are many.
Lady Ravenhill Feb 2017
Today I am
The beaming rays of the Sun
And soft glow from Moon

Heat within the hearth fire
Lightning’s very spark
The speed behind the wind
The bottom of the sea

Unyielding as the summit
Earth’s shear strength of will
The spirit inside of courage
And the caress of rolling tears

Today I am
The embodiment of the stars
And tomorrow you will be too
© Ladyofravenhill 2/26/18
Fire Fire Burning Bright,
As I See Your Shining Light,
Fire Burning With Strong Might
And Sets My Soul Alight
the fire you spark inside me burns forever bright, I love you.
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