There Was This Time

When the oceans wrapped themselves around the shores,
They stretched in languorous shine in a place for their swath of self.
Now storms brew, are stirred like a witch’s cauldron that was stolen by gluttonous hands.
Waves become bereft of forethought and are flung by unnatural force.
And the trees breathe labored by tears.
Their hearts heavy with the mottled air.

But there was this wood-strong time.
Remember.

Running in place,
up toward the sky
feet beneath, unseen.

Reaching outward,
holding light translucent,
they charm us with
the way they dapple sunlight.

We reach within.

Dancing droplets twirl,
and pirouette down stems,
along veins that hold life.

Breathe breath that smiles,
slumbers in the dark,
tendrils of dreams serene.

All come in circle
like monoliths of time.
Different ages stand swift.
Trees are a preamble to eternity.
Their roots, so entrenched in time.

When stillness appears,
oh, there is the touch
that is so ingrained like the bark.

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Voice

I want the winds to blow blissful, natural,
Unencumbered by the thoughtless disconnected,
The ones who do not feel the ground when they walk because it is covered by profit dreams,
Not the soft cushion of moist autumn leaves.

I want the snow to fall,
Landing on trees, and tongues of children
And knowing when to grace the outline of things,
Not to meander questioning as in somnambulant dementia.

I want Earth, Nature and Elemental companions
Not to feel betrayed by greedy hands and selfish minds.

I want those of clear and open soul to move gracefully like seeds that reach
toward their full nature to dance the change.

I want those of sight and action to be deft as a polar bear
who is silken smooth when gliding through ocean to
transform the water that has become tears.

I want us to become the we,
who will become a voice
that will become peace.