Mother Nature (Poem)

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Mother Nature (Poem)

Fall Leaves

Firey orange pixels so much better than my tv screen.

All resting peacefully on mother’s blanket,

in my forest.

Leaves, like feathers, resting.

In no hurry to scurry from here to somewhere.

In choatic discord they lay,

Always perfect, unfettered, just being.

Humans could take note of such peace,

Simply resting on green carpet for a time.

But “not today” they say, scurrying on.

Trees

Big bold arms, reaching up, always skyward.

Never claiming to be perfect,

Just demanding to survive.

Strong arms and deep roots, sending nutrients to loved ones,

All connected at their core.

Reaching out, twisting sideways,

like paint brush whisps of a calligraphy pen.

Dark lines in contrast to vibrant hues so lovely.

They are content with that.

It is their way.

Humans could take note of their will to survive,

And how those efforts turn to artestry over time.

But “not today” they say, scurrying on.

Moss

Earthy moist greenery, a carpet for my feet.

A peaceful place to rest for time, in silence.

Such a gift woodland sounds are, for those who have ears to hear.

Humans could take note of such gentleness,

Where offering a soft space to rest is usually the greatest act of love.

But “not today” they say, scurrying on.

My Wonderment

How do humans miss this?

Intractable in their quest to find meaning,

While living with eyes wide shut.

Mother nature, she’s always watching, always waiting.

But humans have lost their way.

Is it the path that they’ve forgotten?

Or, is it that their eyes no longer see?

Is it that their ears are no longer tuned?

Or are their hearts simply cold and forelorn?

Soul food is not found on asphalt.

Soul food lies beyond gravel roads where the dust flies.

It is deep in the woods and far off on the seas,

Where the ravens cry and the wolves howl.

Where the fish swim and the eagles soar.

There is little beauty in plastic.

Static pixels, white noise on tv screens.

Fall

Firey orange pixels so much better than my tv screen.

Leaves are my lace and moss is my blanket.

Thick branches are the arms that hold me.

The palette of color, Michelangelo’s dream,

All here in my forest surround.

~ L. Davis, #thepoetfarmer

This is a poem I just wrote reflecting on how lovely nature is during this time of year and how blessed humans are who can stop long enough to see and ‘be’ in nature.  Fall is such a lovely time of year.  Get out and enjoy it without the ‘stuff’ that society is drowning under…

Get out and just breath.

 

 

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