As it rains here on this day in 2016, I’m left thinking about all the different places I’ve seen outside in the natural world, outside this roof and these four walls.
Something I have found creeping into the “100 Poems Project” is aspects to grasses, local wild, native, or indigenous grasses, and that the grass is usually tall. It may have a little to do with falling down a deep well in tall speargrass, and then climbing out under my own stream, with a little help from a ladder. But yeah, tall grasses are something I like about the places I get to work, and also where I grew up out bush. Here are two poems this post, “Just a walk” & “Slow”, enjoy.
Just a walk.
Just now yesterday, stepped out of the sea,
Passing now down through the streets away.
Into open forests, waters running slow and fast,
As people smile while resting in the grass.
What makes for shadow moments,
Where time has no place, no torment.
Within fresh faces new stories grow,
Even as the sun soon bears low.
The night skies and their travels,
As pebbles in a riverbed, the gravel.
Lights the path each night,
Back to home next till the bright.
Too slow to write, but not slow to think,
maybe I should just not have blinked.
For at the speed of light my thoughts do run,
in the wild tall grasses where there’s not the gun.
Though I sit here now as the sun first rises,
looking out into the green, not up for prizes.
Such fun to be writing words these days,
in a shrinking world sometimes so full of haze.
The laughter, the smiles,
all the emotions that run for miles.
The tales to tell, and words to share,
what other dares, that now might compare.
But for the excitement of running through the minds tall grasses,
for long now come the days, where nights once long now quickly passes.
To drift upon the changing seasons, like the words fun not reasons,
To play a game of words, I’ll have to think a little faster, to break clean from the tired mind here caught in plaster..