Out of Doors

Sun, 04/03/2016 - 12:09 -- Kacey12

Was it not more than gravity that tugged my budding soul towards the tree-line

A child on his mother’s breast I would press into leafy dirt to feel the earth-beat

Then bright and gentle a kiss would come from sky with whispered love.

The fingerprint of God was every veined thing and upon mine own features

Piped with the spirit that is life.

Youthful brilliance not unique but old as time herself and as pervasive

Was my lifeblood effervescent and bubbling

Up in springs trickling through weedy grass and pebbles

Quickening my spirit to sail along with time’s gentle nudge-ings.

Some grow cold and let the leaf veins dry up

And with them wither as things hidden under rocks

But hearing song of winged thing and gentle planet breath

I soak up the vibrant waves of light and life

And I shall not shrivel but when climax comes

Turn brilliant orange-red

And fall like fire to ignite the drying grass

And spread wildfire and the heat of passion

Even unto the shady hiding places of dying things

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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