Listen to the thunder...
as it rolls on by...
Voices of clouds
speaking from the sky
Listen to the birds
down in the lane
they are singing songs
... in spite of the rain
So when your feeling pain
Listen to the rain song
natures playing you
making pretty flowers
&
the pastures new.
tapestry
ReplyDeleteour lives are just like tapestries
that we weave day by day...
each day a thread we interweave
in our own unique way...
some days are dark and rife with gloom...
those threads are black or grey...
at times these threads proliferate...
and bleakness has its say...
but other times are bright and gay
with colors bright and bold...
canary yellow...tangerine...
and beaming sunshine gold...
still other days are calm...demure...
our mood...subdued...serene...
when pensive introspective views
add many threads of green...
some days we’re sad...don’t go our way...
when false rules over true...
when things aren’t good as they should be...
those threads are shades of blue...
this fabric would be incomplete
if we don’t speak of love...
the thrilling sensate times in life
we never rise above...
those days when passion rules our life
and hearts beat strong and true...
the days we wish would never end...
those threads of red are you...
then there comes those special days...
the days we get it right...
the times we’re all that we can be...
achieve with all our might...
when we do what we planned to do...
succeed beyond our dreams...
those threads are rare...but present there...
their gold and silver gleams...
this fabric starts the day we’re born
and ends the day we die...
some long...some short...but all complete...
when we there lifeless lie...
this tapestry...our tale...our tour...
the herald of our days...
the record of the highs and lows
we lived in many ways...
I wish for us more gold than gray...
more tangerine than black...
less blue to bring us down to earth
more red to send us back
and if dark hues predominate...
while we live there is time...
to add more gold and flaming red
in days yet yours and mine...
for as we live the shuttle flies...
the weaving doesn’t end...
our rainbow tapestry goes on
‘til our last breath, my friend...
...little by little...
ReplyDelete~~~
long soft curls of whisper-thin shavings
fall and gather at my feet
as I plane a straight and smooth edge
of this rough board I battle...
we began as antagonists...
...you and I...
I with my skill and knowing eye
...versus you...
with your stubborn, unruly nature...
defying me with your lack of pretense...
daring me to find your inherent beauty
that only my eyes see...
it cannot be easy to bare your soul to me
stroke after stroke...
showing me
...little by little...
your soul...
any more than it is easy for me
to put my back into the task
of finding the promise in you
...but...
...little by little...
you begin to trust in me as I work...
your perfume fills the room...
your dust settles into my pores
you balk and pierce me with
a sliver...or two...
...as I work...
beads of my sweat drop on your flesh
as I strive to find the true you...
we are joined together
in our quest to find your soul...
...you trust me to find...
...I trust you to reveal...
your beauty...
the fruit of our labor
lies ahead of us
but soon I will slide my palm along
your smoothed oiled body
and then I’ll dream of what
...you will become...
~~~