verdant landscape
beams in
naïve optimism
each year choosing
to forget the sun,
swollen with untempered power;
supple stems stiffen
involuntary camouflage
against once-moist soil
now nature’s adobe
stacked
to the horizon, and
pining for an autumn sunrise
Tag: sun
Midday tyrant
The midday tyrant
is a jealous god,
outshining
all that dare share its space
verdant summer stems
oft defiant
bow their stems
in faux reverence
rising tall
in the dark
Float
Float, spring butterfly
breathe deep warm winds, swelling up,
lifting you sunward
Our unlikely friendship
Each farewell different
the aching darkness stretches
and cowers as Gaia hurtles through
crushing void
seasons turn, reign, die, go back
into the queue
What is a sunburn, but
affirmation that we are alive
due to our unlikely friendship
with an enormous, raging
orb
its inner chaos giving rise
to spring daffodils and year-round
humanity
O grand charioteers!
O grand charioteers!
souls who hitch onto Mars,
ride his endless fury
above sun-baked mountains
to sacred acres where
mortals seldom tread free
across the many skies
scorched by stern suns, until
a motherly moon heals
lets stout heroes stand tall;
only true explorers
see nature’s gift – complete
Sliding slowly out of control
Brilliantly, our motherly star
shines unobstructed
dwarfed by an epic endless azure
landscape, free of clouds
those oft humorless chaperones,
holding the sun and soil
a proper distance apart
not unlike young couples
during black-tie formals
sliding slowly out of control
Unchanging, a fiction
Monuments turn to ruins
Each chiseled stone covered
with weeds, woven
in time, nature always triumphs
its children grounded
for breaking curfew
Cities rise, thrive, fall, rot
under a Sun that
in time
fade into quiet insignificance
Earth, unchanging
a fiction
for Time plays its
symphony not for humans
its notes too few and deep
in a lifetime.
Before bedlam
Early
yawning rays
turn each street strawberry;
those
out and about
creep on soft cat paws
for fear of rousing
red-eyed malcontents
Such is the world
before civilization
goes berserk.
Summer beckons
Speckled sunshine
spirals
on pale skin
a siren’s call
to future sunburn.
Into the moss
Droplets, eerily clear
fall soundlessly into the moss
each seedling quivers
imposing clouds break to
welcome a cheerful sun
calling for new life.
Unspoken Politics 