Blonde hair, shoulder length
A morning in June, one of thirty
I run my fingers through the tall grass
Picking memories like strawberries

She awakes
as the dawn nearly awakens
Rising above the river banks
the moon is slowly disappearing.

She walks on the pasture
watching the lake ripple
as the wind brushes against her
she looks to the sky.

A blue light sky
a color between dark and light
shines where the flowers lie
turned to periwinkle dandelions.

Her hand picks up the tips
as her breath touches the top.
Nearly brushing her lips
watching where the petals go.

R M Grahn Sep 7

Riding through your fields
I lost my chariot wheels
Now head over heels
I’ll never forget--your smile
Or the wheat-grass in my pants

The condensation slowly begins
To eat a hole in
The cotton of my jeans
And I've been through this enough
To know
I'm not alone in it
But I can't help but feel empty.

The dripping grass emits it's gasses
filling the air with the sweet smell of
freedom and October;
The plants releasing their last breath into the world
before the snow comes
and brings death upon us all.

Even in this facade of freedom I feel trapped
Caging myself within the confines of a small
One-bedroom apartment that's supposed to be "home".

The soaking corpses of thriving flowers
and the sweet tickle of chirping crickets
are drowned out by the overwhelming sadness
that's begun to overthrow my lungs,
echoing throughout my limbs as it
sloshes through my eardrums and soaks my shoes

Dear god, why am I still hurting?
It's been 9 years and I still can't escape.
This depression has stolen every last part of me.
Until it's all I have left.

And yes, out here, I feel free
Away from the judgement
Where no one can touch me
Connected with the Earth
Simply observing all that surrounds me.

And of course I can hide from my anxiety
But even feeling the cleanest sand between my feet
And deafening my mind with these crashing waves around me
I can't run from the demons eating at the tatters of my soul
Because they will find a way to lure me back in
To disconnect me from the beauty that surrounds me
Leaving me dying alone on the cold, dark concrete
that lines my broken memories
Bleeding out these sins until I no longer feel empty

Wrote this while sitting on a hill overlooking Lake Michigan. Felt connected to nature but still plagued with my depression creeping around inside me.

Say a blade of grass is of a single existing moment
Swaying as the wind gallops past it
Now this moment will remain with you
In your mind
But as this blade dies
So will the existence of the only known evidence
That the moment even took place
If you cannot remember something
Did it even happen?
If it did happen then why is it of any matter?
This blade is of no use to anyone
If it is a fabricated impression to nothing
Why must it even be created?
Infinite empty space flows wild
When no one’s watching
But it’s the watching that makes it grow

R M Grahn Sep 2

Sweet dewdrops remain
In the soft fields where they lay
Twinkles for today

Yusof Asnan Aug 31

Unappreciated; Disregarded,
But never found alone,
As that is her nature,
To be surrounded with friends.
Closeness; Togetherness.

Green she is,
Health; Prosperity,
Is what she stands for,
Seen in the brightest day,
Felt in even the darkest night.

Always down to earth,
For that; I adore you.

Little grass,
Don't stop growing,
Meeting you as a child,
And more when I fell down,
Still when I seek tranquility.

When at the risk of withering;
Or the surge of a flood;
Even of the blazing fire,
A thousand might harm,
Thousand more might belittle you.

I will shield you.
And that; I owe you.


-HIY

Sun Aug 28

She turned herself into a wild river
When she couldn't take anymore rain
Any form of pain
A river of wonder
running through her footsteps


She became pale black
Tanned skin
Pristine blue
The wild river flows in her heart


She is wild to erode soft mud
In love with the deluge
Clashing with boulders
Embracing all the seasons
Dares to take away
small stones down by her track
whist craving the tender mountain grass

The earth is patient enough to tolerate her wild flows with endearment. Are you softly wild enough to flow with her to meet in the same ocean?

sometimes i'm not in the mood.
i just want to run away,
somewhere quiet,
somewhere peaceful,
where i can lie down on the grass,
listen to music
    and watch the sun go down.

sunset lake.
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