The Air We Breathe

Scratching Forest

When the bark I scratch as I pass,

Will the light from the day last,

The loomed light of dark fails in the branches,

The abstract corners of my cob web eyes ranches,

It zooms in on all the prevailed obscurity,
The deformity,

The ilumity,

It postures out like limber on the pond,

Just do be blood black blond,

It will capture me to the test,

And I will sit and remember the rest,

The cold frigid air will remain on my breast,

And believe the believing,

Of the leaves leaving,

Down on my face,

Like black and burgandy lace,

Coward in the forest place.

This Spot

Remaining in this one little spot,

Tell me what I have not yet taught,
To tone liar is this erosion in the exposed,
The beauty of outside whithered and rose,
It's like I need to keep my thought here,
Just so I can feel safe,
In the waves of pine,
As my body blusters combine,
In the ryhme of bliss,
I will feel at miss,
If I can not feel the winds plaster me a kiss,
Yellow and blue all I see,
Let me stay, let me be.

My thoughts:

Nature is everywhere..I am sure you know. But we feel it even when we are not outside. We feel it as we breath the sight from outside the window. We feel the pain of the tree cutting down miles away. Just as we feel afraid. Nature consumes our being, nature is our seeing. To live in a forest, is like living in your bodies sanctuary.

Short Poem:

Still

The still,

I feel,

I will,

The bless the still.

Breath your last breath, till there is nothing left.