Becalmed
Suspended in brackish undulations
Dunes shield this lagoon speculation
From seething currents

A repeating line of patterns of something deeper then memory
It's the motion of waves of wonder of maybe something like pain
A wanting to lessen to soften to gently lay my head down
It's not what's happening now

The mountain grows much slower than your perception of the mountain growing taller, as the dynamics of the sea, which sculpts the earth beneath your feet, speaks—summoning the breeze: isn't it surreal, living on God's pottery wheel?

We saw a world
bruised and beautiful
The world kept moving forward
constantly in motion
while ours fell apart

Currents
by Michael R. Burch

How can I write and not be true
to the rhythm that wells within?
How can the ocean not be blue,
not buck with the clapboard slap of tide,
the clockwork shock of wave on rock,
the motion creation stirs within?

Originally published by The Lyric. Keywords/Tags: poet, poets, poetry, write, writing, rhythm, meter, motion, ocean, tide, wave, waves



Ah! Sunflower
by Michael R. Burch

after William Blake

O little yellow flower
like a star ...
how beautiful,
how wonderful
we are!

Deep dark night
Helpless, state

Miserable plight
Cool and bleak

Wintry landscape
Unknown faces

Cruel blow
Strange air

Poisonous water
Stinging earth

Strange paths
Motionless movements

Voiceless calls
Senseless imagery

Weeping cries
lyrical emotions

All jerks, activities
Noises, announcements

Agreements, decisions
Every deal and done

Heartless, motionless
Helpless state

Miserable plight
Voiceless calls

All with my pangs
Only calling You

Make the all norm
With the warm sun

Illuminating rays
Eliminate darkness

The Merciful Lord