#rarity
A rarity
The rarest glint and sparkle that is the superficial covering upon the recent snowfall, inches its way out to the very extensions of the trees' branches.
The golden glow of the amber sunset softens the chill of the evening light, reminding me of the after light of life's lessons.
Which way shall I go? Shall I follow the fading, luminescent glow of the sunset, where the colors burn to the deepest oranges, purples and reds; where the passion and fire of the days' closure sweep you off your feet and ignite passions ardor?
Or shall I stand in the patience of a dark and starry night until the gloam of mornings' edge brings the promise of yellowest brilliance and brightest blues of the light of day?
There is the rub. The sting of time threading its way in and out of nature's complex quilt. In through one side and coming out the other… On one side, there is softness, lusciousness, comfort and warmth. The other, is filled with rich and vibrant colors that evoke innermost emotions, desires and delightful excitement.
These choices do not seem to be options at all. They are here and then they are there, one moment fading into the next, as the snow thinly spreads its icy mantle upon the diverging branches of the mighty oak tree.
How simple and yet complex the vibrancy of life's significance. Effortlessness and arduousness fight one another at cliff's edges. One saunters along the boundary of craggy and stony precipices. The walkway is clear and clean where the fields above gently wave their fair-colored daisies that bow and dip in the prevailing winds overhead.
The sea beneath whistles, twirls and rushes, as it slaps and smacks its watery dispatch upon the rocks below. Frothy skycaps intimidate and yet also give way to sighing wonderment.
This is a quandary. The expression that nature presents and pushes yet pulls the spirit and the very physical limitations of humanity.
There is beauty all around. The thin veil of a lingering cover of snow on trees' branches, or at their feet, melting away into the muddiness of dying pastures.
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 6:02 PM UTC
I thank God for friends like you
Who live their lives in simple truth
They help a friend along the way
And count their blessings everyday
They found love is not in word but deed
And care enough to plant the seeds
That grow into a friendship deep
They live to grow and play to keep.
So don't let the years twist the truth
Just keep on being friends like you.
Feb 11, 2025
Feb 11, 2025 at 9:13 AM UTC
We have a world inside,
Each other an ocean, a forest
A fire, a wind storm.
To comprehend, is to confuse
To feel alike, is to lose our rarity
To leave it be, is to refuse.
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 11:28 PM UTC
The comparison of such dejection
Makes me feel as though I am not one
But two or many or all
To feel prototypical is an oddity in itself but I need distinction to find comfort in being astral
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 12:27 AM UTC
It sure is such a rarity
To have any kind of clarity
In this pall we’re covered with - no verity
Grey is not lit with any prosperity
Only shroud covered lands all in a form of familiarity
Knowing what is covered, but cannot see it’s true identity
Shadows cast through the day of skies so cloudy
A wet mist reminds - there is no remedy
Sunshine does not peek or wink through an atmosphere so gloomy
Dark grey grows over the land walked by one in singularity
Unfortunately, having clarity is such a rarity, a sad insincerity..
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 2:59 PM UTC
The poet's heart is full of adoration
Quietly observant, yet unaware
Yearning to spread joy throughout the globe
Show every last person how much it does care.
To be viewed for the rarity it truly is
Also partly hidden out of sight
Timid, reluctant to uncover all colors
In a world that sees only in black and white.
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 9:34 PM UTC
Luck is when the fruits off one’s labors don’t spoil before harvest – when life doesn’t pluck the buck from your pocket,
or the orbs from your eye sockets.
To be lucky means all the yucky, mucky misfortune simply grazes the hairs on your nose.
Brevity says “I am not lucky to know you”.
It's miraculous to me that you held the key to my heart from the start.
You are not chance, cause, nor coincidence.
You are rarity.
You are pleasantry.
You are necessity.
So as the day must become the night,
so too the rays of my heart must return
to rest in dusk with you
~ and for that
I am forever grateful.
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 7:48 PM UTC
1 a.m in the morning
walking the streets
basking under tangerine lights
not minding time as it fleets
the cold morning wind
punctures my skin
a smile plays on my lips
savoring the sensation it brings
I inhale the silence,
embrace the softness of the morning
a warm piquant feeling
seeping through me
I feel the cadence of my footsteps
the symmetry of the streetlights
I even felt the rhythm
in the flickering of the store signs
and oh! how the stars shine in the moment
millions above lustrously burning
in the sky
now my heart
as they permeate my being
1 a.m in the morning
while walking the streets
I have found peace
in the city that never sleeps.
Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 9:11 AM UTC
She's one of those beautiful mysterious ones.
The one that has absolutely no clue just how radiating she is.
Quiet but always thinking.
When she does speak her intelligence & eloquence flows out.
Kindness that melts your heart.
Her humor catches you by surprise.
That smile of hers fills the room with a force of enchantment.
I wish she could see what I see.
That she's not a **** among flowers.
But that she's a ******* beautiful rose bush.
Powerful with its twirling roots under ground.
Those thorns.. a force to be reckoned with.
She is like a closed rose bud hiding away.
But my God when she opens up and blooms.
You get blessed to see her for all the magnificent beauty that she is.
Full of color. A rarity.
Like a galaxy full of shooting stars.
I wish she could see what I see.
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 9:44 PM UTC
*Stars in dust wasteland
Seen once every seven years
Desert flowers bloom*
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 11:05 PM UTC
Abundant galaxies,
in a world of close proximity;
remember our eyes,
shining brighter
than the stars above.
*how rare
and beautiful
it truly is
that we exist*
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 6:59 AM UTC
Not all evil is dark, or wood
For darkness is
Deceptive,
Illusions,
Distortions
As of truth, all that glitters
is not good, evil prays
On the sins of man
Greed is the downfall of us all
For one would
Maim,
****
******
To hold this blood diamond
It bathed in blood of the past
Soaked up the evil turned
Pure transparency
What one is, now not
Tainted,
Inanimate,
Lust
For a thing of beauty that is soaked
In purest blood, how many died
How many souls lost for this devil
In rarity,
Consumed by its beauty
Vain jewel of purity that is bathed in blood.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
It rains diamonds on Saturn...
And there's no need of it there.
Here, we run in short of diamonds
And the desire for it never stops.
...
....
Maybe rarity adds a value.
Even to a piece of glittering rock!
Perhaps that's why we crave love so much...
It's rarity makes it so precious...
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
An ounze of gold, found in a river
Assessed as a diamond, swallowed in an ocean
When we met in England.
All of Aisa is painted in platinum
Diamonds in Bankok, too sordid to be seen.
If you had rare sight, extinct 2900 BC
You may see race in the reflection of platisation
And the ability to chip it off is as harmonious as it gets.
If not superiority found you, and alimim forefathered you
To follow your blessed unique connection
Narcissus is not all around you, nor is any other God
What exists as greatness is only you.
In true great form should be existentialism
Instead you think you are untouchable
However ignorant I find it
When my mother bought me here as a piglet
She said I would always stand alone in stoicism.
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC