Silver Trees

If you see a tree of silver and red
Beware beware what lives inside
Lay no ax to its bark
Light no fire within its sight
Least you wake what lives within

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A Reminder

Cover eyes and ears
Guard against unsightly things
Shield the heart and soul
Against the cruelty in this world

Cover eyes and ears
To shut out the darkness
To shut out the things
That is unfolding

Not to ignore
Or condone
But to stay alive
And to keep the hope

Through the screens
Big and small
It is easy to become lost
In all the hurt and hate

Through the tongues
Of those who hate
It is easy to think
All is lost and doomed

Cover eyes and ears
But listen to what is whispered
Beyond the noise of the world
And the screams of angry people

Cover eyes and ears
In order to hear
What the Lord has said
What the Lord is saying

Peace.
Be still.
And know that I am Lord.

I made the heavens
I formed the land
I drew the seas

I see the hurt and the pain
Both in the world at large
And within your heart

I see the anger
I see the regret
I see the tears

Know that I feel it all
And I am by your side
Though you may not see Me

The Tread of Doom

Black as moonless night
Still as dead water
Silent as tomb underground

Crack

Hidding hiding
Must hide must hide
Don’t find don’t find

Crack

Snap

Closer Closer
Be still be still
Don’t breathe don’t breathe

Crack

Snap

Crunch

Too close too close
Far too close
Is it there is it there

Crack
Snap
Crunch

It’s here, it’s here
run or stay run or stay
run or stay run or stay

Crack snap
Crunch

Pass me by Pass me by
Don’t let it find me
Don’t let it find me

Crack snap crunch

It’s coming it’s coming
Maybe not maybe something else
Hide hide hide don’t breathe

CRACK snap crunch
CRACK SNAP crunch
CRACK SNAP CRUNCH

Snatch.
Twist.
Thud.

Crack snap crunch

Crack snap

crunch

crack

snap

crunch

crack

snap

crack

Monday Stories

Every storm begins with a drop of rain
Every journey takes a step
Every tale a single word
So stories are told
And legends begin

A while back I started writing stories to see if people liked what I wrote. Part of it was to see if anyone would read what I wrote. A test whether it was worth an attempt to write a story. However, I found myself slaving away to meet my Monday deadline. Between that drive to meet the deadline and the sudden increase at work, I felt burned out and tired.

Since then I have returned to posting a new poem whenever work allowed me.

For a while, I thought about giving up blogging and writing altogether. I saw it mostly as something I did for fun and for myself. I was also getting tired of going in cycles where I would post regularly then go through spans of posting nothing.

But lately, three of my friends have been encouraging me to finish a novel and get it published. So I stand once more and I am going to commit to writing a blog. Not only that but also start using Instagram to document and to build a fanbase.

I am not sure whether I will be successful or not but I do know this:

If I don’t try, I will never succeed.

The Elf and the Sea

Upon the north wind
I taste the rain
Cold and sweet
Within the wind
I hear the waves
Of the distant sea
Though woods be my home
And open sky my temple
Ever the sea calls to me
Though I count the stars
And tread the earth
My heart yearns for the sea
Though I know not why
Ever I hear her call to me
Ever I wish to answer her
Yet I cannot answer her

Friday Thoughts: Fog


Fog.

To adults, a dangerous hazard while driving or walking about late at night.

To kids, a wonder of walking through a cloud.

To movie makers, a key element for suspense.

Fog is often used or seen as something supernatural or spooky. The harbinger of the monster’s arrival or the warning of some character’s death. In reality, fog can hide dangers in driving or hiking. Obscuring familiar landmarks while hiding holes or drop offs. Some people don’t like it.

But I rather like the fog, not for the thrill factor but fog changes things.

Fog strikes me almost like an artist painting over a photo. It warps familiar landscapes and scatters light in a strange way. People appear and vanish only a few feet away.

By walking through thick fog, one can easily see how fog was seen as doorways to another world. Maybe they still are. Not the magical or mystical doors of the ancient eras but the mysteries and wonders for artists and writers.

orange streets lights along a paved road in the early morning

Friday Thoughts: Simple Things

It’s the simple things that matter.

That is what many people say with smiling faces and perfect lives. And a lot of times I glare at them and say, “That’s easy for you to say. You have everything.”

But it is true.

Lately, on my commute home traffic has been snarled. A side road often gets me around the bottleneck. But I don’t take it to avoid traffic or because it is faster. I take it because it is one of the most beautiful scenic routes I have found. It is a winding dirt road with old trees lining either side. Their branches reach up and over, forming a tunnel of branches. Breaks in the trees allow light to pass through, providing a warm setting. With the right amount of cars kicking up dust, it becomes fog-like.

It is a beautiful drive and I love it.

And it is little more than a detour on a narrow farm road.

But it is a simple thing that makes me happy. In this world of negatives and depressing news, finding small things that makes one happy is rare indeed.