poetry – Page 90 – Picking Up Roots

Dreamer

I have experienced
one thousand deaths,
I will live through
one thousand more,
dreams
fallen by the wayside -
not deemed worthy
of nurture
by an unquiet mind -
are the great casualties of this life;

though they may be rekindled
reborn, again and again,
such are the wanderings
of the mind
of the hopeless dreamer

Morning

day breaks
on a broken body
ravaged by a sleepless night
and the wear and tear
of Time's passing;

mind dense with fog,
joints creaking with stiffness,
feet hit the floor,
the wood's cool grain
awakens the mind
to the life within,

rise,
make use
of this greatest of gifts

Painting

how do I paint
a picture of the natural world
within the confines
of inadequate words;

how do I make real
its vast and intricate beauties;
how do I show it
stealing your breath away
as it fills you with life;

perhaps, it is to encourage you
to open your senses;
to hear the songs of the birds,
to feel the summer breeze kiss your skin,
to open your eyes to the life that surrounds -
to see