The frost-feathered birches are a heavenly white,
knuckled and rigid as elderly spines,
Holy as naves and as filled with esteem
November announces my season of dreams
Long nights south to the tree and the lake
For happiness sake, and lying with stars
The comforting sounds of a million cars
Rubber on tar, rubber on tar
Flights of romance and my supper outside
A tangle of shadows fiercely flailing at my sides,
and over tables of oak
I am sat near silent others in their scarves and winter coats
They accompany me so, although none by invite
We are strangers breaking bread beneath a milky way of lights
Here where lofty leagues above, the storm begins to croon
Where fleecy clouds in motion seem to overtake the moon
Trees teem with leaves
of hues of amber and green
shaded in a shimmering light
eclipsed by this September night.
Falling leaves beget bare beginnings
as all must cease to be truly living.
This is the tree’s blessing
for you to follow its calling
to turn helplessly like the seasons
without intention or reason.
Think what you may, say what you think—
the trees are perched above you like kings!
Let things flow without a word
to pass along on their own accord.
There is an infinite beyond your ken
into which you must go again.
I never liked the
smell of tea tree until I
smelt it in her hair
One night the moon whispered her secrets
into the breeze,
who carried it in a song
to blow though the trees
There it settled
with it's constants and vowels
Then away flew the moon's words
on the wings of an owl
Her voice traveled a great distance
till the little bird reached light
There through the window
was a writer in the night
So out perched the bird,
words whoo-ed into the silence
to be picked up by a candle's flame,
to reach the writer's iris
It was then in the dark
that the ink flowed onto a page
It was then in the dark
that the author's mind blazed
Times goes by
and we read these words, finely tuned
from the writer in the dark,
the messenger for the moon
Lets take a walk through the forest
the birds, the frogs, the flowers
the forest is my home
i could stay here for hours
the squirrels, the brook, the bees
every element forever moving, growing
i climb a rock and fall
now ive scraped my knees
i used to live in town
but the people didnt like me
they called me names and laughed
i was the village clown
but its all fine and dandy
i didnt like it there either
the animals are my friends now,
and the trees are my family
Once, the wild forest
Its vestigial remains laid under my feet,
In pockets of youth that grew out of the ashes.
Once, the wild forest –
I dreamt of it, sleepwalking, moontalking,
I dreamt of walking down that forest floor,
down mountain slopes and crowded ravines,
and curving around the canopy as the birds do.
Oh, the wild forest,
How you sleep and slumber,
How you call to me with all your moss and your green.
Your spiders spinning webs, the old sequoia tree
Who has seen more than I will in a thousand lives.
Once, the wild forest,
Treaded beneath my feet.
How that ancient spirit slumbers,
How the forest sleeps.
Nestled in silence,
The trees carry no burdens
I want to feel that
The most twisted oaks
Stand strong and weather a storm
When younger trees fall
If you believed the media youth wins every time. How do you think these oldies got to be so old?
Deep in a forest of fake news
Where headline games are people’s views
where pandemics become plandemics
where anti Vaxxers avoid vaccinations
and billionaires avoid taxation.
The forest of fake news
didn’t just spring up
watered by raining lies
governed by media moguls
and Facebook spies
Google and the internet shows us what we want to see
inverted mirrors of reality
each showing trees
a forest for all
with no clarity
How do see the forest from the trees?
or the trees that are fake?
life is forest full of trees but they are increasingly on the make
or just tricks in our sight
digital trees born out of spite
then cut down into newspapers
there’s no one to save us
we want to see the truth
that wasn’t always hidden
but we’d rather see the fake that’s not guilt ridden.
Truth the tree of life is now overrun
No one can see it
It’s been over come
and in the dark all trees look the same
it’s you and I who are to blame
We allowed them to plant
there fake news trees
and lies and untruths are a disease.