Friday, March 21, 2008


I heard the saplings spring forward
From the velvet
mountains who cuddle
their roots
The rain chose
To drench these babes
(they were in cahoots)
While the sun shown brightly
Over this sprawling land
And after
great great great grandma passed
I saw a forest
That was so grand

The Tetons were never blessed
Nature simply didn't toil
To make a deposit
of rich loam; so needed for large
It dumped rain so
snow-caps formed...
On solid rock yet
very little soil
Delicate flowers had need of a home;
no tree would
They ever be
Annualy, they took up residence
in the Tetons' craggy steps
How they blossom for all of
us to see!
But only those that will see
must challenge great heights;
Be 'not 'afraid' - trudge, walk
Joyfully, the bees fly from flower to flower
Never aware they should shouldn't be 'air-borne'
These chubby little insects - wings so paper-thin
Admired by humans
yet eagles would surely scorn

Penguins survive the Antartica
Worms burrow in the earth
Grumpy old people curse the day
Children laugh in the rain; we say they're
Filled with joy and mirth
What I find as I grow older
Beauty is definitely in the beholder
And anger might never really exist
Except because of what I perceive
In my own selfishness, I often blurt out
"I'm pissed!"
Pissed isn't a nice world - it shouldn't be
Placed in a poem;
Only words such as 'velvet' - 'soft'
'loving' - and other expressions
Like the 'joys and comforts of home!'
Home - in the ghetto
Home - in a war zone
Home - without food
Home - and I hear a moan
Home - for the aged
Home - for the sick
Home - for the mentally ill
Home - which one do I pick?
Do I pick my home; is it something I can control?
Home - at best I can see
Is what I find in my soul
I search my soul; I search my 'house'
I search for what I can find
At times the search ends up being
"Paradise Lost"
But then, it's possible "Paradise'
Is all in the mind
Mind - Soul - Heart -intertwined
And salvation might be
'one of a kind'.
That velvet grass folds upon itself; the wind
Rolls it into that fold
The trees grow slightly - and like you and me,
They're showing those signs
Of growing
If I live in a land - barren...not a tree
If I think I'm a desert, I might
Desert me
I sigh; the English language can be fun
as I see
Desert - a climate
Desert - to abandon
...words - humans say them;
write them
(at times, relentlessly).

Sometimes I wish I were a tree
No brain; no speak - no pain - a gain
(quite plain)
If I were a tree, I'd stand
while another nest is built in my hair
And I wouldn't question
'Who' put it there.

Copyright Protected (yup, I keep saying that cuz they tell me to) by:
Diane Stirling-Stevens. January 10, 2008