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Meandering Words Sep 2022
as they
shuffled by
she told her friend
“i always look
forward to this
time of year
when the first
tinge of yellow
touches the leaves
with the contrast
between shade
and sunshine
a comparison
of polar opposites
where a gentle breeze
can chill
or relieve
one making you
appreciate the other
once it has gone”
i couldn’t help
but take note
of her poetic words
as i surveyed
those same trees
glad to see
swaying hues
of green against
shadow-dappled green
feeling fingers
of sunlight
still breaching
filigree tree-shadows
to warm the skin
of passers-by
while overhead
a pastel blue sky
mottled with only
staccato wisps
of gentle stratus
paint the vista
leaving thoughts
of the days to come
when this spectrum
will shift
and these colours
must change
Meandering Words Sep 2022
there is an owl
out there
   somewhere
in the darkness
kept secret
by whispering trees
shrouded
in shadow
by leaf
and cloud
it seems
to have a question
for any
who will listen
politely
but persistently
it inquires
pausing briefly
awaiting
an answer
before asking
again
and again;
whether intended
or not
this interrogation
has infuriated
the old boy
and seemingly
every other canine
in the vicinity
Meandering Words Sep 2022
she said
that i manage
to reduce
the nicest moments
into their
most negative
aspects
my eyes wandered
as she spoke
falling upon
an extravagant
burst of
the sun's rays
exploding through
the rolls
of pearly cloud
colouring the sky
with blooming petals
of pinks
and oranges
haloed by yellows
and creams
a sight
to marvel at
perhaps
but without
the imperfection
of that
darkened shroud
this light
would not
be mixed
into such
artistic palettes
and
the magnificence
of the scene
would go
unnoticed
Kelly Mistry Aug 2022
I am
the center

The center
Of the world
Of the universe

My universe,
                        at least

For who else could I be
But me?

I see the world
Through my own eyes
                the lens of my own experiences
                the shades of my own perceptions

I feel only
through my own heart

Just like we all do

If we each are the center
Of our own universes
What happens when universes collide?

Will I see through your eyes?
Feel through your heart?
Or will I don blinders?
Deny your world’s existence?

If you believe that seeing the worlds of others
Only expands your own

Then come
Explore the multitudes of universes
Each of us centered in our own
But ever seeking
                               new eyes
                               new hearts
                               new worlds
melody Jun 2022
everything hurts
but not in the sad way you think
everything hurts because nothing wonderful is curated without a little bit of pain
the pain is the fuel which leads you to light
or maybe that’s all my life has ever been
a journey back to heaven
i always mix up anxiety and adrenaline
everyday is another day i can’t believe i made
i was born a melody but life transitioned me into a serenade
love is the only thing that overcomes the pain
i live for glimpses of it
it passes through fast like the sparkles when the sun hits the sea
and in those moments i feel free
the warmth i felt for all the times my heart sang
it hurts to use my senses at times
i ache and i cry
but i know bliss will soon tell me why
a kiss for today, and a kiss for forever
for now i love the universe until he tells me it’s time
Andrew Rueter Jun 2022
When I stay inside I stare at the ceiling
when I go outside I stare at the sky.
Meandering Words Apr 2022
the sailing stones
were thought to be
a phenomenon
it was incomprehensible
that a rock
the inanimate
     of all inanimates
should show signs
     of movement
here was mystique
here was mystery
perhaps a message
left by
cosmic energies
or
higher beings
undecipherable
     unexplainable
there could have been
beauty
in never knowing
in letting
     the idea remain
pure
untainted
restorative

alas
we cannot bear
the unexplained;
where the miraculous
is founded
   in uncertainty
we must probe
and pry
until an answer
is found
whether for benefit
betterment
or
hindrance

perhaps a balance
can be found
between the known
and what remains
acceptably unknown
before
the intrigue
and enchantment
are marred by
the bland
     the sterile
          the prosaic
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