An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
"The White Flame never dies. It transforms, it rises again." The fire lowers itself into silence, its breath a soft surrender.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales5 months ago in Poets
"The earth remembers, and the sky awaits." The roots sink deep where silence keeps its store, they drink the sorrow buried in the clay.
"What bends in storm will rise again in sky." The branches reach though storms may tear them wide, their fingers aching for a distant flame.
"The branches caught her hair, the storm pulled her on, yet still she pressed toward the light ahead." The branches reach where blossoms once had grown,
"The wind paused to hear you breathe. The soil remembered your footsteps." The soil remembers every step you made, its silence carries what I could not keep.
"Even the roots knew his name. Even the light bowed to him at dusk." The roots reach down where memory is sown, their tendrils gripping soil with whispered care.
Blossoms, Eostre’s essence, diminish into darkness. Still, I am reborn. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By Matthew J. Fromm5 months ago in Poets
"The stars remember. The Earth records." The stars remember what the soul has lost, the nightjar sings where silence learns to stay.
"The wind paused to hear you breathe. The soil remembered your footsteps." The wind still pauses where your breath once lay,
"Between loss and remembrance lies a realm of silent echoes." Between the worlds, the silence holds its song, a voice half-gone, yet lingering in stone.
The word I never spoke still waits for me, it lingers heavy where the silence grows. The branches tremble with its memory.
I follow the shadow that will not let go, its breath entwined with every step I take. The roots remember what the rivers know.
