sketches of nowhere,
for it is only time
that tells our minds
which call us
to waste away
in all work, and no play.
spill the paint
and by all means wander
in woods afield
or lands afar.
thy spirit that seeks
a solemn lore
can find in earth,
infinitely more.
let us sing
melodies of nothing,
only to fly
and sail away.
when two find solace
in earth and sky,
a scene is born
and we find a brook
to exist by.
roam the path
that feels free to wonder,
for scenes
dwell in beauty
that persist in heart
and soul and hand
and can never be torn asunder.
let us draw
sketches of nowhere
only to drift
and fade away.
a few more years
will shed a few more tears
and thus we'll be
seasonal friends
that join hands
in its profoundest sense.
3 comments:
i love your poetry. i've told you that before,and a lot. you inspire me to write more (and just finished "Desert Solitaire" and am still working through some Muir. such beautiful language that they use, that you use. I like the double meanings (intentional or no?) dancing through the lines. and it comes together! so awesome..
love, j
let us create
mad collages of pen, paint, paste
creeping masses of memory
new experiences too
tumbling piles of junk
rearranged as glorious art
let's stick it on a pedestal
see? i can't make mine nearly as beautiful
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