Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The Earth Is Not A Cold, Dead Place

there is more than this in life
than toil and worry and fear
if i hide amongst the trees
the warm breeze sometimes drowns it out
hands over ears, huddled
under my green canopy
i pretend my songs come from
the river's edge
safe here. home.
and i won't bow down to your
gods of perpetual motion and
inexhaustible growth
all lies, it surely is,
as nothing lives forever and
i long instead for stillness, light,
warm dog kisses and a lover's touch
poetry, not progress
world whizzing by me seems so
muscles tense, eyes closed
i dream of meadows and journals and
time, precious time
not devoured by my overwhelmed senses
the earth is not a
cold, dead place though she
and i cry out together
for solace from the
storm, so carried off we have been
in the deluge of life

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