LOOK UP!
The sky is cloudy.
The trees- bare.
Mist hangs heavy,
pregnant and perched
in crisp grey air.
Dew drops dangle
nude bronze branches.
The surroundings,
gloomy but the ground
promises new life!
Bright little buds bursting
yellow sun seeping through
green blades raising,
Hearts of Hope-
centered deep in time,
spreading tiny blooms
of violet hues and pansy
smiles.
I look up to the grey sullen sky
cast in cloudy pale lackluster.
In the evaporation of isolation
I contemplate,
the transformations of this world,
It’s molten raven tempers
against blue pragmatic phases.
Its fruitless tapestries exposed
against explosions of fertility!
Its death, rebirth,
it’s courage to survive!
It is an innate knowing,
a willingness to live!
Look Up!
Is it just the sky or are we viewing
what lies behind the eyes?
Is it just the sky or are we viewing
the pits and falls,
the trials and triumphs of human ways?
Is it just the sky or are we looking
into the lens, into the soul
of something greater yet, that which
we aspire to be, to become-
Look Up
Is it really just the sky?
I think, I feel, I stand here now-
In this moment, suspended
silent, still-
Carried high, higher, highest
within the force of life!
And I know-
It’s not just the sky…
I know
I AM.
- Tiny Poet, Look Up!, 2013
The trees- bare.
Mist hangs heavy,
pregnant and perched
in crisp grey air.
Dew drops dangle
nude bronze branches.
The surroundings,
gloomy but the ground
promises new life!
Bright little buds bursting
yellow sun seeping through
green blades raising,
Hearts of Hope-
centered deep in time,
spreading tiny blooms
of violet hues and pansy
smiles.
I look up to the grey sullen sky
cast in cloudy pale lackluster.
In the evaporation of isolation
I contemplate,
the transformations of this world,
It’s molten raven tempers
against blue pragmatic phases.
Its fruitless tapestries exposed
against explosions of fertility!
Its death, rebirth,
it’s courage to survive!
It is an innate knowing,
a willingness to live!
Look Up!
Is it just the sky or are we viewing
what lies behind the eyes?
Is it just the sky or are we viewing
the pits and falls,
the trials and triumphs of human ways?
Is it just the sky or are we looking
into the lens, into the soul
of something greater yet, that which
we aspire to be, to become-
Look Up
Is it really just the sky?
I think, I feel, I stand here now-
In this moment, suspended
silent, still-
Carried high, higher, highest
within the force of life!
And I know-
It’s not just the sky…
I know
I AM.
- Tiny Poet, Look Up!, 2013