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My Dear Poet Apr 19
I can only carry these thoughts
as far as the wind will blow
Even when I lay me down
they’ll dictate where I go
Beside a tree I find my rest
only to rise when they’d say so
Beneath its branch I sow a thought
like leaves I watch it grow

By a river I make my bed
where my thinking freely flows
like rushing water, runs my head
my thoughts ebb and flow
Near the fire I watch the flames
I light my thoughts aglow
they’ll burn tomorrow new desires
I have no strength to say ‘no’

It is me tonight

that will need
to find  release
through ******

Find a quiet place
on the edge of
your bed

and join me



Dear world--

Some things you will never tame

https://youtu.be/8gewz4Xf4rQ?si=soQ5h__ELHrOIdOg
#animal
Danielle Sep 2023
he had a special place in my heart, though he had it all.

As a kid, I admired all the celestial bodies that I can put in pages, I can see how the constellations are connected to my veins and how the moon is shaped like your eyes.

The more I grow older, the further I learn to wander in the garden, a wilderness where the islands haven't been named, parallels have intertwined and orbits that have once collided.

Oceans were calling me to test its depth— the calmness of it reminds me of you, the stillness of it brought terror as the deep waters are not moving. you're a scenery in a post card that I could receive but not enough to love me.
B Apr 2023
Where the air is thin and flowers grow a plenty
take me where it hurts to breathe
where the sun embraces me, so gently
and the towns are quiet but friendly.
We shall fashion daisies into wreathes,
watch as the aspen births her leaves
into crimson colors, so many.
Mark Wanless Jan 2022
i thought i was a voice
in the wilderness
until i heard a voice
in the wilderness
CarolineSD Jul 2021
I let this wilderness excavate my soul
Hard edged rain thrown from a raging sky
Cuts quick across the exposed contours of my neck
Hair gathered and whipped across my eyes
And I will kneel in this dirt and beg to
Be stripped down to the throbbing core
Of what it is that
We really are.

A crack of mountain thunder
Vibrates along my spine
And the wind even bends the tallest bodies of the pines
Who reach their trembling arms high
Above the cliffs
And I am still clutching at the darkened sand at the edges of this
Storm-whipped lake
Heart beating wildly, half-afraid
Of the violent power of this wild space.

But here, finally, in ecstasy,
Like one released,
I find that I am face-to-face
With the missing pieces of my soul
Cut off in jagged edges
From the day that I was born,
And it is only in the presence of haunted,
Exposed wilds
Sometimes high in these cliffs,

And sometimes in someone’s eyes,

That I find myself again.

And so, like one who is often blind,
I extend my hands out into the darkness
Fingertips aching to find
Another spirit that is formed of mountain storms and
Rages wild.
Is it a blessing or a curse to always feel the rushing
of love beneath it all?

"There's a craving that will never come to pass
There's a hunger that will never cease to last
There's an aching that lies deep within my soul
For the promise that someday I could be whole."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MCxQiJtmSGk
CarolineSD Jun 2021
By the shores of an alpine lake
Newly thawed
Sun bright and full of an early summer’s
Hopefulness
I watch the goslings waddle
To the lapping edge of the water.

Their mother eyes me, but
Notes that I am
Not a threat.

And I am not a threat.

I tell her softly that she should pass
And I will not throw rocks
Or chase her off
Like so many do
As if we have some greater claim to this
Blue lake
And the evergreen forests
That surround it
Than all of the wild things that quietly adjust their days,
Trace a slightly wider arc,
Around the cacophonous noise we make,

Before slipping quickly up, up and away
Into the thickness of a wilderness
Rife with ponderosa pines
And a crisp silence
Broken only by the wind
And the bird songs
That are the first to speak
Of the winter’s end.

And I prefer to listen
And look often
To the farthest contours of the foothills against the sky,
Borne away from even my own voice that
Seems to demean the purity of things
Free and
Wild.

And time,
A gentle drifting
Like a body on the surface of the lake
Drawn out to the center when
The tide is just right
Pulls me away from these cities we make
Inside our minds
To justify the way we think our lives
Mean more than hers;

Just a mother leading her young ones to take a drink,

And I will never stop her;

The spirit of honest things.

No, I hand her my heart to take to the center of this blue lake
And let it sink like a rock to the dark,
Cool depths where it belongs,

From whence it came.
Hamna Apr 2021
I am lost
In the wilderness of my youth
I fight
with every ounce of my might
To keep the dark forest of desires away from haunting me
I try to flee
To the right path, I see
but thorny branches of nightmarish trees grab me so maliciously
And reach my heart
To pour some venom
I sink
Into a shuddering oblivion
The soulless devil invites me to his enmity
I refuse
As I hearken the sanity
My Lord had provided me
And I cling to it like ivy
Indeed, My Lord helped me to seek Him
Before the devil and the sinful hankerings sought me
I swear I just heard the trees breathe, a deep contented sigh. Harmonious to the one echoed in my soul.

Breathe in, Sway out.

Breathe in, Sway out.

Let the breeze move through your mirrored branches.
A movement dedicated to life beyond your center.
A late night observation in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of everything.
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