An Anxious Aspie's Interpretation & Decoration of Poetical Ideas, Messages, Information and Resources.

Posts tagged ‘wind’

Wayfarer

The crazy frenzied wind,
on his way back,
clamoring in his ears,
the runaway horse screams,
treading the wind,
it rushes off.
free as water,
leaving footprints as he forges ahead,
the torrent symbolizes,
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Brightest day

The brightest day,

buttons on the clothes are flashing,

brightest dews,

a scene with no dust,

wind is a helmsman,

a small wave here before the heart,

today’s a bright day,

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Floating leaves

Another autumn,

leaves dyeing a layer of colorful,

colors,

wind blowing,

leaves floating,

rain rain,

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Bad dream

Tall giant poplars,

Dwarfish sheep lying low,

crooked river like memory,

slowly thinning,

wind getting stronger,

a fear of  being blown away,

then the wind gets weak,

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Random thoughts

I know deeply,

that a leaf wants to stay green,

to not fall,

to stay on the branch,

a little longer,

i understand deeply,

that a grass,

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Secret garden

Moonlight after rain,

bright and quiet,

written on a wet trail,

dazzling,

picking up a glowing pearl,

a stone like the night’s eye,

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Street light

Dark silk devouring the sky,

debris falling,

fish suspecting,

that it’s pollen falling,

pedestrians panicking,

raindrops rupturing,

embracing,

road lighting,

hiding,

in its territory,

insects combating,

the storm,

dancing,

with wild chrysanthemums,

candlelight in the sky,

swaying,

there’s a gust of wind,

fufiling,

the vast darkness,

lights of a rainy night,

pouring,

and a beautiful halo,

and fireflies floating,

and a lost soul.

 

Like a dream

Lying quietly in the arms of this town,

feelings lost in a foreign land,

a street ablaze with lights,

a street that is for me,

the promenade of memory,

closer now,

everything is,

not so strange now,

like a dream,

woke up,

then remembered,

fleeting years,

lost,

on the promenade of memory,

like the wind,

gone,

back again.

 

 

Aside

Little log cabin

The afternoon sun,

slightly smoked,

sneaking into the mysterious cabin,

floating dust half awakened,

listening to the discourse,

of the warm genial wind,

and the sound of clarinet,

green shadows,

heavy outside the window,

stacked layers,

interlacing,

turning into clouds,

joyous birds,

waving curtains,

inviting the wind,

broken light swimming,

people walking,

past the window,

a fine limpid period,

walking and flowing,

amidst the foliage,

a quiet poem,

poured onto the gloomy wall.

 

The call of tundra

Snow tangly,

a world of silence,

a voice calling,

a voice i seem to understand,

that’s the call of the ice,

the teachings of the wind,

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