In the storm that rages all around,
I am, the figure standing tall.
I am, not swept away by squalls.
My feet are firmly planted,
the roots run to the core.
I will not topple,
though some do not see,
they cannot see,
until,
the flash of light,
and for a moment,
they do.
Category: Nature
A lone petal
survives
the
storm...
Prickly points scratch soft skin,
leaning on twin bows, searching
skyward, bedazzling blue-
cirrus clouds gesticulate wildly,
ethereal digits caressing verdant,
green eyes sparkle in summer sun-
arid winds sweep, dust swirling, a
chaotic ballet, tumbling fur,
eyes earthbound, dog party.
Wyoming winters stretch deep into spring’s sweet lullaby;
softly, snow-covered flowers seek sun’s radiant respite
from long deep freezes delving into marrow, leaving souls
shuddering…
Sacramento summers scorch westerly sea breezes, dust rises,
trees wind-whipped, cracks creep, deserting creeks, rocky
smiles entombed river beds waiting, wanting winter’s wet
caress as water overflows banks, kissing my feet…
Searching skyward, seeking solace in between.
