nature poetry
An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
My Universe
”I am you and you are me”, I will remember my daughter saying this for eternity. Whether you’re a King, a Cat or a Fly on the wall, you’re no more important, we all have our role. Every breath that went before me and every plant to come after, is part of this story of our evolution being crafted. To assume we are separate is our biggest mistake, we are one, we must love, we must give and take. So when I imagine the wonders of who I’ve become, I remember I’m not here without the stars and the sun. The beauty within, is a billion years old, every second was precious so now my story could be told.
By Marie Sulda 5 years ago in Poets
The Perfect Storm
Can you paint the picture of a beautiful storm? There's more than what meets the eye, more than the norm. Imagine out of sunshine and clear skies and birds singing, all of a sudden you hear thunder raging, and it peaks your interest so you get up and look, only to reveal the Sun and clouds are not even shook. The birds are still praising this very moment, so you're lost and confused about the weathering torment. Meditating in the rays of fiery bright orange, awaiting a lightening bolt of purple, while watching the clouds go black, but the energy hasn't yet shifted, so I took a spiritual journey and got spiritually lifted. As I sent out the energy of love to get love throughout all universe, the rain started to patter then from a patter to a splatter, and with my eyes closed I could feel the rain pouring inside of me. I felt the drops of blues and reds, greens, and yellows all vibrating my chakras, reaching me on all different levels. The urge inside said run outside so your feet touches the Earth and your crown reaches the skies. So you'll feel all of the hues purposely on purpose, not being trapped in an ordinary rain, this rain, no you want this. So I rush to the door to see blue skies, black clouds, and a softened sultry red Sun. Listening to birds still glorifying and sending up worship. So, can you paint a perfect storm, when a storm it really wasn't, just a time out from this world. A beautiful distraction for a small moment, a moment of peace, and healing full of tears and love. If you had listened to this storm, there's no way you could've missed it. All of the clarity within turmoil. God was speaking different.
By Addixx Only LLC5 years ago in Poets
