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

When next i am to sleep again poem by Edy Benjamin

when    next i am to sleep again
will    you be there with sheepish grin
i    will not brush nor turn away
see    you not in yesterday
again    we make the figure 8

bells    go tingling in the night
books    unwritten taking flight
candles    dim but light is longer

midnight    come and we will go now
dawn
noon
dusk

the nightmare came strongly to a him repulsive kiss
before he half collapsed
his arm over her shoulder her arm around his waist
she would find him a hospital bed medical help
white nurse offensive
fat lady without compassion (expected)
phones had secret codes
who were patients non discernibile
over an hour she supported him
walking thru a maze of hallways
once she woke and remembered
all her nightmares took place in hospitals
falling back asleep she was there
still seeking hospital bed and help
“ok” her self said, “wake up”

coffeed and tobaccoed

the hopes and fears thru all the years
rest in autumn peace
the struggle with no resolution
put to rest
in it’s own halls of circularity
as piano man ‘splained
“too much mercy is wasteful,
too lightening bolt heavy is non justice.”

and Jesus said to Moses,
“What the crap happened
to Abraham’s children?”

justice lives not only in the now
sometimes it’s waiting in some halfway house
between the blood-letting and the peace
found
only with justice

what will reflect the blood on distant hands
that fashioned the knife
that foresaw the bomb
that Jack and Jill built?
that support the men
who light the fires
that scream the women
that scars the child.
does he hang down his head
Tom Dooley
or does he just look away
and dulled his senses
to no sense.

Is their hope Hooey?
Ah, Louie,
paint them a picture
from May to December
of eleven year old children or so
then when they remember if they remember they’ll
follow
follow
follow
(you know)
their heart.