Dance of the Dryad

The line of trees weaved at the heavens

With intertwined arms entreating wanders

To trespass into the secret why

No secrets held nor told; ‘tis the dryad’s way

“Seek me if you will – I am life beyond”

And in the quiet of the woods, I came to rest

At the feet of hamadryad, my soul seeks no more.

Paradox of Signs

The way was long

the signs were not;

"Hasten home "

the scene granted

as the waning moments

lost all sense of direction

and I stood as a paradox

of the signs -

a light in a box of darkness.

The Hotel Stoic

The comings and goings of the flop house, that is his carefully molded mind, begets
many a character that neither pays nor works for their stay and most eventually meander away
to whatever place launched their lostness however, a few remain to stir the asylum
into a tea of madness...

the windows are always open.

Shadows to Believe

I can no longer perceive 

How truth can not receive

It's guise nor its nakedness

Without first seeking a darkness

Where light is useless -

Yet, I unfold into the shadows -

I believe.

(Photo by Ruth Z)

Reason in Doubt

 

Where there is chaos

There is concinnity

Where there is dispassion

There is coherence

Follow all doubt

There may be reason.

A Dream

She asked, “Where are you headed?”

Her inquisitive eyes were filled with curiosity

And danced with a convivial energy 

That only her lovely smile could rival.

Thus, she held a fascinating story to grasp.

However, the dream must be followed,

He simply gave a glance and wondered,

“Where am I - going?”

And replied only to the path's call.

Wind and Sails

 

The sails ask not the ship's mast for a sense of place; 

the sails tell not the thermals which direction shall find land;

the sails know not the winds that drive their presence;

the winds never wonder why the ship, the mast or sails

need to reason for emotion.

The winds are an existential relative for all things

that must have movement.

Wildflowers

 

We wildflowers - are connected to earth

and to nature in ways that can only be understood

by a lone blossom stating its indomitable presence

while sprouting its beauty from the crack of a cold

and unforgiving boulder

in a series of timeless reoccurances -

Wildflowers shall note our last place

was our beginnings.