THE SEED OF THE BURNING TREE Poem by Summer Breeze

The Seed of the Burning Tree

The Seed of the Burning Tree

THE SEED OF THE BURNING TREE

i stand knee deep in burning coals
waist high in bombs bursting light
eyes filled with poisonous gas
ears to the crackling wind

i kneel deep in daisy filled garden
soft breeze caressing my face
tear drops coursing the river
bird song in my ear

i lie on the ground hugging
holding least i fall further
than i can remember being
down in the deep deep well

i turn to face my Maker
i cry, “o Maker face me!”
give me just one reason,
or take this cup.”

the crackling wind is silent
the air is sweet & pure
i see a tree in the garden
it burns but does not die

“My child, & you are my child
My love, and you are my love
You are the seed of the burning
Tree, and you and I are one.”

Originally published at Artvilla.com on Feb 1, 2005 @ 17:02

In the Shallows Poem by Summer Breeze

Summer solace painting

Summer solace painting

In the shallows
by Summer Breeze

In the shallows of our past
remembered shadows
heart broken clean
of entanglements and fairy tales
Camelot was not
akin to our dreams of real
still
in our frenzied recreation
needed now it is a good time
to rampart the battlements
of fear and greed
the poet dreams
dips a pen in the deep well
informs the other
“You are loved”

First Published at Artvilla.com on Nov 30, 2004 @ 15:05 CST

Cold Rain Poem by David Michael Jackson

flatsm

Out Into The Cold Rain

out into the cold rain
goes my baby
out into the driving wind
goes my child
out into the cruel world
I send my honey
for
even the bitterest wind
is sweet
even the driving rain
brings the wet street in the morning and
that certainty which permeates
the consciousness in the wet cold,
suffering perseverance
which tastes as sweet
as
the soft forgotten scent of
the rose.
To come out of nothingness
out of the abyss of time and no time,
to come out of that and to taste
the sweet taste of the oxygen in the air for a moment
for a simple brief instant, would you not endure,
would you not say “No problem, Lord”
to the pain and cold
dampness of this day
to the problems and the worries and the fact
that this coat doesn’t quite cover, and
let’s the cold in until it
hurts the limbs when they try to move.
What do you say,
what can you say, but
thank you
thank you for
this day

Copyright © 1998 by David Michael Jackson, All rights reserved

***

 

 

flatsm