A Poet's Mind

September 3, 2014

By BRONZE, Santa Cruz, California

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I am the withering flame in the fireside,

Slowly burning out upon the nights end.

I am the soft wind running through the forests,

Stirring up the powdered snow at the wolf's feet

as he talks to the heavens.

I am the tides turning and forming to glass

underneath the nebula as the sea stands calm.

I am the long lost row boat hid below the kelp,

dressed in a blanket of sand to keep it as safe

as a sunken ship can be kept.

I am a winter leaf falling to the earth,

departed from the safe haven that was its home.

I am the ice that rests on that leaf,

pulling it slowly down until the weight is too great,

and the little leaf lets go saying no goodbyes.

I see the world run by without a care,

waiting for the skies to turn black.

I see the people who walk among the earth,

Fearing death and what will become of them,

but most are unknowingly already dead.

I see the young mother taking her daughter's hand,

and slowly leading her through this world.

I see the daughter later in turn taking her mother's hand,

and slowly leading her out of this world and into the next,

with tears of content for the life she had led.

I see the beauty of the time we have,

but stand far to close to truly appreciate it.

I see the world in strange melodies playing in my head,

never organized to the beat of the drums,

but always filled with strange beauty beneath each note.

I was lonely, I was desperate, I was weak, I was me.

I was brilliant.

The author's comments:

A thought of life and death.

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