Waking, or are we?
The light a permeating pang
Dull, pulsating, and deep
Centered just behind the eyes
Laying almost motionless; to only cover the naked chasms of impression
Suddenly, I remember
Familiar nuances
Almost home like
A vividness that challenges reality
Grey overcast skies
Black soil entices nostalgia for those coal hills back home
The trees..
Where are the trees?
Each discovery of details made, never breaking stride
As approaching the converging of two rolling hills that flow gently into a small valley
An awe-inspiring site slaps me into a fixated gaze
To only realize there must not be a greater reality than this
When we hear or see a creek
What are the words that come to you?
Humble?
Meek?
Not this creek
A green so vibrant no emerald, bank note, or other temporal comparison
suffice to express it's brilliance
The water so clear you curiously look across it's surface and see straight out the other side
It's depth
Well it had no depth
No creekbed to plot it's course
This water heeds no path; for it knows the way
Twist and turn it may
But from the source and to all it flows
A lively and steady flow it has!
Glistening and gleaming as if made of fracturing shapes,
absorbing singular beams of pure light and each minute structure
radiating back multi-layered rays
But, there's no sunlight?
No outside source?
This light is within
Eternal
Through each of these facets it may express
But the message
The eternal
That is Love
Pure, everknowing and transparent Love
Who can resist it's comforting, intoxicating, but undeceptive allure?
Following the edge of this creek,
careful not to taint it's precious innocence,
but feeling the presence nonetheless.
We emerge from the miniture valley
Compacted soil and rock form a sort of archway.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
poets for PEACE
कविताLet us all write together. Lets all celebrate the hope for Peace on this planet. We will post poems about Peace in any language. Let your voices be heard. Your poem will also be posted at @WritersforPeace , our newest sister site.
