nature poetry
An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
No Concept of Time
The calm river, wildly adorned with shrubbery, flows through a dense forest. Trees that have been forcefully uprooted by the river's once drunken rage relax on their sides, silent relics to a time that has long passed, laying their firm testimony across the young saplings who stretch eagerly toward the foamy sea sky. Absorbing every inch of sunlight that slips through their parents protective canopy fingers. The wind sings a sweet scent symphony through thick branched arms, coaxing leaves to leap gracefully upon the melody, dancing whole-hearted at their opportunity to demonstrate the routine they've each prepared. Spinning precariously around each other, exchanging partners as they sway, to bow respectively at the final note moment when they reach the ground. A creative arrangement of color that range from lush green to smoldering red, resembling stain glass, twigs and soil being the fullness inbetween. The lucky few who have been enabled to participate in the second act swirl and glide at the will of the gentle river, who conducts in time to the trickling whisper and shallow gurgling murmured by the entranced audience of rocks in which they pass by. Some leafs being reunited in still-pool pockets where tadpoles play and mosquitoes skate merrily in intricate patterns, which they refuse to repeat more than once. The rays of sun that bounce off the soft surface allure the eye of a wandering fawn, drawn toward the gleaming rainbow light seems to make in passing, cautiously inspecting the authenticity of serenity this humbly moving forest displays. Only after a slight double check does curious life allow it's warm nose to kiss the velvet water, drinking greedily from the rivers abundantly giving body. The crash of a distant tree falling shatters the surreal scene, jolting the young animal from her vulnerable daze, sending her springing into the thicket from which she came. Dashing past lazy squirrels, slumbering peacefully within the confines of their trees, and busy bees, who dully notice anything beyond their own reality, to finally be reunited with eagerly waiting guardians. They make off home at a quickened pace while chastising the adolescent for the potential danger that could have struck. The fawn barely listens to the wise words her watcher's part with as adrenaline wears away, still thinking back to the enchantment she discovered. When the fading echo is strained to be heard, a blanket of bliss gently falls back into practice, careful in design and forever free from the hands of time.
By Matthew Hernandez8 years ago in Poets
An Observer Roadtripping
It has been years since I went out of state especially crossing over multiple state lines recognizing the similarities all along the way my journey... It was a breath of fresh air setting my feet on unchartered soil.. by me that is.. To feel the sun on my cheek on the drive to gaze off into the hills the mountains maybe.. maybe it was the mountains I was looking at it was calling my name turn here go there see this and that go somewhere different travel the gravel and dirt path...Living this life one breath at a time not a care in the world being stressed doesn't cross my mind, happy and thankful with each step I make grateful to my father for each breath I make.. feeling the love from everywhere I go I am transmitting a glow I'm unafraid to show...This trip has been spectacular a sire I hate to leave but returning home I must for my kids await me...I keep telling myself as we all really should do you only live once enjoy every moment with everything that you do. So if traveling on a road trip remember to enjoy yourself and don't do anything you would not want your parents to do..
By Charity Hubbard8 years ago in Poets
A Flower
It's so hard coming across things in life to love nowadays. It's like feelings that are colorful in all kinds of ways. You find a person and think they will make your life happy "forever" but in all reality will y'all ever really be together? Plant and seed and you'll describe through whatever .... A bush of flowers won't trade on you in any kind of weather 💕 "Take care of a flower, like you take care of the pieces to your heart."
By Indiaindee8 years ago in Poets
Life on Pyroearth
Relationships , struggle , heartache , the never-ending climatic battle through the various terrains of life: Rocky and all , all of us yearning to hold or posses that one true prize that signifies our passion and determination in all its various forms that keep us to strive for what (in our minds) can keep our passionate flames burning bright, here on pyroearth
By Brendan Huff8 years ago in Poets
Sunrise
Swaying in the cool morning breeze, a single tree stands. The tips of its tallest leaves kiss the dimmed blue sky, and the depths of its roots are enclosed by the thick black soil that fills the area. Sprouting from the darkest of that dense ground, a harvest of bright green wild-grass dances to the sound of the wind. The grass, which in itself is detained by a thick forest, is also the protector of its own inmate; the water. Held together on all sides by the grass, dirt, and trees, it may be imprisoned but that water is free. It is free to its depths and it is free to its heights. Free to listen, free to reflect. As the crimson edges of the horizon stain the rich blue of the sky, the free water mirrors it all. Showing both the light and the dark, the water reflects not only the beauty, but the shadows that also arise with the sun.
By Elizabeth Lou8 years ago in Poets
