Feb 3, 08
Birch Tree
Which grows in light; not wood
Each wind that moves your branch
Sings with the rustle of spring dew
Birch Tree
Circles around thy bough speak Age
Wisdom comes under your canvas
Within your roots a strange paradox
Beautiful in a corporeal yet celestial aura
Above the ground such Peaceful breath
But with the source of Life underground
Tangles and webs of mystery; an enigma
Living from sins from all eons of time
Blood soaks down; Drunk and High You grow
Birch Tree
I'll journey for the silhouette of You
The golden light of your trunk to leaf
And roots hidden; where my blood soaks
Down.
I Believe in Beautiful Words
About Me
- Color Changed
- "I write like people doodle and sing in the shower. All the time, anything, yet always seemingly less than adequate." -Me. Blogs are here for me to put random thoughts And for random people to read? That seems idiotic and futile. What do I gain from my out-put? Surely you gain nothing from this in-put If I keep rambling on and on, will you keep reading? That seems foolish. Why are you wasting time? And why am I? . (Not all poetry may be listed in the right order or writing, follow the dates at the beginning of each writing. Inconvenience I know- Oh well-)
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