orion no. 6
not one wish for today
from waking sun to setting sleep
i will seek the silence of rustling leaves
& eliminate all thoughts
of if
of when
of why
i shall not laugh
i will not cry
but will abide in the cleft
between life & death
while ceasing to try
seeking only that silence
that breathes deep & intrepid
with lungs full of now & thanksgiving
not one wish for today
from waking sun to setting sleep
i will seek the silence of rustling leaves
& eliminate all thoughts
of if
of when
of why
i shall not laugh
i will not cry
but will abide in the cleft
between life & death
while ceasing to try
seeking only that silence
that breathes deep & intrepid
with lungs full of now & thanksgiving
This is really nice...very organic...contemplative....a good reminder for me. It conjures images of Walt Whitman or Henry David Thoreau...naturalist...therapeutic...thanks for posting.
ReplyDeletethanks josh ~ that's a kind compliment ~ i'll take it. you may have noticed that i've changed the image. i was rushing to get something up to keep my goal of putting one of these orion poems up each day until they're thru. this image is more of what i had in mind ~ more reflective of the poem. thanks for all your input dude ~ i appreciate it.
ReplyDelete"seeking only that silence/that breathes deep & intrepid"
ReplyDeleteNice line. The photo makes me think of the film The Proposition. The screenplay was written by Nick Cave. It was an Australian Western. He actually wrote a few books, most of which are strange and perverse. Somehow this picture reminds me of the soundtrack...eerie but beautiful and blistered.
Today I looked at this piece and saw more. In the center it looks like a bird flying downward...
ReplyDeletedove dives into scorched earth
(how far have the noble fallen?)
hope is on a string now
the bells in the firmament toll
announcing to the great,"You come callin'!"
let the good times roll
you're right, Bear Boy...it does look like a dove...I like what you wrote based on it, especially- hope is on a string now the bells in the firmament toll. It makes me think of a windchime, with the dove hanging from its string.
ReplyDeletediving doves nestle in leaves of grass
ReplyDeletewhile the proposition of wind chimes
takes up wings upon strings of glory
only to bellow out from the caves
of our blistering hearts
thanks for all the feedback guys ~
it's appreciated