© Susan Marie
Selfless and passionate
birds cry, melodic.
Rivers and lakes
streams and oceans,
the great majestic seas
roil like thunder,
yet rest our weary souls
onshore.
This is how we are blessed.
The trunks of trees
bear limbs
reaching down and out
from heavens sweaty brow
holding out hands
made of elm and birch
of oak and fir
thunderous heads of hair
crowns of chakras
all colors
falling, falling as leaves
blanketing grass,
emerald and awake
blinding our senses stupid
as children playing hopscotch
drawing chalk lines
of castles and kings
of princes and queens
and this -
this is how we are blessed.
Listen -
the human heart beats
like tribal drums,
circled by ancestral fires,
drumming and pounding,
treble and bass,
prodding the spirit -
onward towards destiny,
towards fate,
towards the next step -
forward.
In this mad world,
this great globe,
this utterly insane
human existence
is beauty.
Yes.
This is how we are blessed.
Words/Photo © Susan Marie
birds cry, melodic.
Rivers and lakes
streams and oceans,
the great majestic seas
roil like thunder,
yet rest our weary souls
onshore.
This is how we are blessed.
The trunks of trees
bear limbs
reaching down and out
from heavens sweaty brow
holding out hands
made of elm and birch
of oak and fir
thunderous heads of hair
crowns of chakras
all colors
falling, falling as leaves
blanketing grass,
emerald and awake
blinding our senses stupid
as children playing hopscotch
drawing chalk lines
of castles and kings
of princes and queens
and this -
this is how we are blessed.
Listen -
the human heart beats
like tribal drums,
circled by ancestral fires,
drumming and pounding,
treble and bass,
prodding the spirit -
onward towards destiny,
towards fate,
towards the next step -
forward.
In this mad world,
this great globe,
this utterly insane
human existence
is beauty.
Yes.
This is how we are blessed.
Words/Photo © Susan Marie
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