Black mountains lie between now and to be
A valley, thriving, bright in its diversity, courses a path.
Our hands wisp over sunflowers and lilac, legs are tickled by grasshoppers.
The monarchs graze our necks.
When we arrive, we will know.
creamadacrop
1600
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CATEGORY
life
Black mountains lie between now and to be
A valley, thriving, bright in its diversity, courses a path.
Our hands wisp over sunflowers and lilac, legs are tickled by grasshoppers.
The monarchs graze our necks.
When we arrive, we will know.
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OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY creamadacrop
ArrivalBlack mountains lie between now and to be A valley, thriving, bright in its diversity, courses a path. Our hands wisp over sunflowers and lilac, legs are tickled by grasshoppers. The monarchs graze our necks. When we arrive, we will know. |
Yet we are, I amI am yet a man with all of the insecurities and gestations of experience. I am yet a boy with all of the insecurities and wonder of not knowing. Truth to these middle years as Luis J. Rodriguez found is: The disproportionate truth of not knowing what’s to come and how deeply my past has effected where I stand. As prolific in my mind as Maya Angelou on stage, I am but a nave in reality wishing upon a star. My little light seems to shine when no one can see it And maybe one day I’ll find that it is okay if this light shines just bright enough to keep me content A LOST ANGEL; halo dwindling, Religious without a religion; Non-denominational is the term coined by many refraining to be chained by the boundaries of religion. Insisting on doing it their way - Praise Jesus! Praise Allah! Praise Buddha! Praise L. Ron Hubbard... |
Her LaughA life as priceless as the air in the room it blesses. The laugh of a blessed woman, a woman who loves life, lives for joy through Christ. This is a laugh that heals the broken-hearted, warms the frigid soul when life has become increasingly hard to bare. A laugh that resonates. This laugh is genuine and all hers, though shared with many. This laugh is Grandma's. |
Blessed BeBlessed be the youth, for they know no better. Blessed be the truth; catch it, hold tight. Elusive, floating feather. Sweet innoscence, scent of purity, freshness. Yearning to learn, "What's that, what's this?" Approaching days curious, No reason not to, haven't simmered long enough, experience settles the stew. Blessed be the youth, for they know no better. Walk your words teacher, cause pupil now knows -- that you know better. |
A Mind UnleashedTo Understand the possibilities within the frame of a man, A man Built in the form of an Almighty Is incomprehensible... Yet, as a free mind understands This Unrealistic Oft-sought after Faith in unknowing, unattainable, perfect LOVE, Which We are born with, Stripped of by men, Searching for through out an invisible realm of meaning. It is not to understand perfect love but to fall in love with our true selves, The knowledge of the greatness w... |
Lingering TasteWretched, filthy taste that WILL NOT be suppressed, nor alleviated. Stagnant stench, lingers on my tongue, rinse with truth, and repeat with understanding. Life.... |