Genesis

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I come from the forest

Where dreams go to die,

And the smell of loam,
Deep and dark,

 

Disguises our every secret;
Where the silence,

Impenetrable as the fortress along the shore

Where impossible wishes spawn,

Swallows every sound.

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Autumnal

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Somewhere,

There is life.

 

Beyond the starkness of barren trees,

Past the fallen leaves,

Just South of here,

There is life.

 

“Find me,”

It whispers in a silken voice,

A breathy gust of wind

Against the ear of the weary traveler.

 

“Seek me where the river meets her mate,

Where the autumnal trees burst back into riotous color,

Up past the mountains, where you shall find me

Worshipping at the altar of wanderer,

Hoping to be sought,

Praying to be found.”

 

And there She will be,

Looking like an angel,

Fallen to her knees –

“There,” you shall say,

“Is Life.”

Autumn

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Autumn arrived

Much in the same way it always does,

With a blustering gust of wind

And a hint of chill in the air.

 

It came for me

While I was asleep,

The turning of the Earth

And the motions of the Heavens

Colluding to bring about the fall

Of all those brittle, bright-colored leaves

From their summertime stations.

 

Fall entered stage-right, and I?

I stood, enraptured, as She came closer,

Caught utterly unawares by her presence,

Not realizing that summer had gone

Until it was already far too late

To mourn its passing.

Alone with the Sea

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Did you see the pale purple transparency of light

That just this morn, heralded the coming of dawn

O’er the ocean?

Did you notice the great expanse of grey that followed,

Or catch a glimpse of that pastel-colored leaf spiraling through the air,

                                                                    Earthbound?

Did you hear the owl’s lonely cry,

Watch the birds on their journey towards warmer waters,

Witness the arrival of another glorious day,
Or was it just me,

Alone with the sea?

A Study in Light

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The dawn
Was pink this morning,
And so were the hulls of the distant ships
Orbiting the horizon
Like far-away stars;
Pink and grey,
And utterly golden
In this light,
Shining
Like tiny lighthouses
On some remote island outpost,
Beckoning me
Towards the sea,
The sand and the surf,
And all the places
I will never go.

The Elements

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The mountains pass

With the most stillness,

But the trees, they are

Such transient passersby,

Such fleeting parts of our lives,

Fleeing so quickly from view,

As if running on fleet-footed feet,

From some flagrant forest fire,

Far from here, and smokeless, too,

Cold, by now, ashes at most,

And scattered ones at that;

And of the human element?

The houses, the streets?

They, too, pass with rapidity,

Save they are not running, but rather

Are static, yet not unchanging –

Flaring and fading, then falling

Into the complete and utter abandon

Of ruination.

The Dew

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The dew that dazzled me this morning

Is gone,

So I was wondering if

Maybe

You’d want to go back,

With me,

To when it was still shining,

Radiant,

A tiny drop of the ocean

Clinging

To this terrestrial world,

Fast fading,

Yet glinting and glimmering in the sun

As if

It had nowhere else in particular to be.