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Awakening

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

Tightly closed against morning chill,

Holding essence tight like in-drawn breath,

Waiting for an unknown time

On an invisible clock to steal.

Who can fathom such silent wonder,

But stand in awe and ponder?

Majestic in crawling, slow motion,

Thrilling beauty to overflowing portion.

Arms now unfold in radiant bliss,

Greeting sunshine with a fragrant kiss.

Translucent petals, gorgeous disclose,

Sun’s warm rays now caress the rose.

My Dream

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

I dreamt of hunting buffalo

And long grass shimmering in the sun.

I saw cold, crystal clear mountain streams,

With its banks bordered by wild flowers.

Away up high, almost a speck against the light blue sky,

A bald eagle surveys his realm.

Although it’s spring time in my dream,

The distant, hazy, purple mountains

Still wear their caps of white.

The air is clean and fresh

And filled with the smell of growing things.

The white-trunked aspens

Keep sentinel in their quiet beauty.

Life is simple but hard.

Man fulfilled his dreams by the strength of his hand,

Sweat from his brow, and cunning of his mind.

He became one with his surroundings.

The world was sustained by natural order,

And it was good.

When I awoke,

I realized that I’m but a dinosaur

Transplanted into a modern time and world.

 

Solitary Rose

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

In a single vase, a rose alone,

No spoken words intone,

But, could it speak, what prose

Would issue forth from this rose?

 

Surrounded by a snowy wealth,

Tightly nestled in baby’s breath,

Beauty and essence silently unfold.

Ageless message again retold.

 

Surrendering all, no questions why.

Muted beauty, silent to the eye.

Yet, could it speak real words, too:

“I’m love’s sweet token, just for you!”

It’s Not As It Appears

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

From Ming Dynasty

To urbane travesty,

Ancient pyramids,

Ages untold.

Mysteries beneath the sea,

Treasures beyond measure,

Yet all that glitters is not gold.

 

Old wisdom,

New wisdom,

Colors broken by a prism.

Rainbows cast in a cloudy sky.

Men haggle, question, and reason,

Searching the horizon for why.

A diamond in the rough is not enough.

 

Infinitesimal reaches of space,

Men scurry and race

To conquer and know the unknown,

Striving to be first,

To quench the unquenchable thirst

Of knowledge —

Or is it greed? —

Which pushes men toward the stars.

The well-worn shoe now cramps the foot.

 

Radio and television

Have created an invasion

Into history and lifestyles

With forceful persuasion.

Minds spoon-fed such

A diet of sensation

Soon lose innovation

And imagination.

A rose picked from the vine quickly loses its beauty.

 

Retreat

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

Rock-covered water,

Cold, chuckling creek

Splashes, tumbles happily,

Almost lulls me to sleep.

Reclining on green grass,

Warm sun on my face,

Nature working magic

Hectic schedules to erase.

Beauty surrounds me —

All surely heaven sent.

Pine-laden air,

Spruce trees generously lent.

Mind relaxed,

Mountains seem to tower.

Each minute thus spent

Prolongs life by an hour.

Red-tailed hawk above

Surveys this lovely span.

Makes one glad to be alive,

Glad to be a man.

I’ll think with sympathy

Of those left far behind,

Facing traffic snarls,

Smog, or waiting in a line.

But, then, they may like neon lights,

Consider it great fun.

I’ll give them a thought anyway

As I soak up the sun.

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