The Budding Oak
In society there looms a shadow
Who has cast darkness upon the land,
Unable to escape the labyrinth
They lose the will to understand.
Blinded by the sight of seeing nothing
They limit their eyes to less than what they see,
The forecasted, temporary storm cloud
Brings eternal misery.
Cycles pass within the hour glass
As its essence shifts from hand to hand,
Like the well of life it’s draining
As centuries get buried under sand.
The budding oak begins to dream.
In the field there looms a wizard
Who has cast a blaze upon the land,
Unable to escape the labyrinth
He conquers what he can.
Agonized by the lies he believes in
He releases the flames stored up inside,
Innocence burns just as the others
Until the last of the fires has died.
The ignition spark cools to only concealment
As the ashes of fury find broken souls,
The blood of the inferno’s draining
Into a river none can control.
The budding oak sits by the stream.
In the orchard there looms a worm
That has cast a trend upon the land,
Unable to escape the labyrinth
It comes up with new demands.
No longer is one apple enough
So it seeks to strengthen lust and greed,
Branch by branch it claims them all
Hording the wants it needs.
The cores of the apple soon line the dirt
Underneath the hungry soul of I,
The bigger picture and greater good
Are lost to egocentric eyes.
The budding oak sees through the mist.
In the box there looms a world
That has cast a shadow upon the land,
Unable to escape the labyrinth
We forget that we can stand.
Perception is a gift without batteries included
Of which many decide to not obtain,
Thus petty importance tears us down
And turns the rain into a hurricane.
The mist of reality bears no truth of what’s right
Yet we adhere to pains that nobody should know,
Society’s vision is selective and narrow
We perceive not with mind, but with status quos.
The budding oak lives unnoticed.
Winter’s Wake
The breeze blew briskly through the air,
Snow sheets spiraling down in fair,
The dry grass drowning in despair,
Wallowing in winter’s wake.
The fields are full of fluffy white,
The surface soil hidden from sight,
The dirt deterred from its delight,
Wallowing in winter’s wake.
The towering trees keep in toe,
Completely covered by crisp snow,
Bulky branches hanging below,
Wallowing in winter’s wake.
Slowly the rivers and streams sojourn,
The lakes are frozen land mammals learn,
Running water and warmth they yearn,
Wallowing in winter’s wake.
The wind whispers out its words,
Bearing burdens for the birds,
Holding them in huddled herds,
Wallowing in winter’s wake.
The sky is swallowed in shady clouds,
The sun is shielded in a shroud,
And its light we aren’t allowed,
Wallowing in winter’s wake.
The clouds continue to heed no call,
Fanatically the snow flurries fall,
Sapiens sadden since storm won’t stall,
Wallowing in winter’s wake.
Schools get closed and children can play,
Snowmen, snowballs, and sliding all day,
Wondering why the world does stay,
Wallowing in winter’s wake.
