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Lift me up to the highest height,                                                          ­        
                                                                ­                                                
release me, I'm a bird in flight                                                           ­         
                                                                ­                                                      
Let the Earth's beauty fill me up,                                                              ­      
                                                                ­                                                    
until I'm breathless & had enough                                                           ­             
                                                   ­                                                                 ­   
Let me soar into the azure skies,                                                           ­   
                                                                ­                                                
spread my wings so I can fly,                                                             ­           
                                                     ­                                                               
with soft wings, I sail, gliding by                                                               ­                         
                                                                ­                                    
Everything is different way up here,                                                  
                                                                ­                                                  
the beauty of life is much more clear
Kaiden Apr 22
Break this bond between me and earth,
Let me go forever underground,
Far, far away from the pain and hurtful words,
From the toxic embrace of your hate.
suicidal af rn
AE Apr 18
Branched between two oaks
I took it all in
the water, the open breeze
blended it all together
with the feeling of emptiness
and poured it into the ground
where the sun never goes
where things never grow
where the earth is barren
until something splits wide open
maybe it's the ground
or a feeling of living
I was looking out my window, in the middle of the night,
A bright over powering moon, seemed to hypnotize my sight.
Then this thought, appeared in my mind, to see,
How long will our planet earth last, as we know it, to be.
The year, three thousand eight hundred, and twenty-three.
Through energy in the air, we all receive messages, over time,
We never know when, or where, most we forget fast, this one,
Inspired me, to look up, investigate, with my mind.
Our moon is approximately, two hundred, thirty- eight thousand, miles away, I was curious the same numbers, arranged,
In a different way.
Investigating more, as the bright light shined down from heaven,
Nostradamus, said, the world will end, in three thousand,
Seven hundred, and ninety- seven, a prediction he saw in his mind.
Twenty- six years, was the difference, that appeared in our sign’s, that does seem to be many days, not when you’re, considering, over four hundred years, have passed in time.
If either of us are close, my journey will have something else,
For me in store, I will always remember the moon,
At twelve forty- four, on the first day of February,
In the year of two thousand and four.


                         Tom Maxwell©2004 (rearranged 2021)
Saanvi Apr 12
Wind glided through the forest ringing like bicycle bells as it blesses the leaves with its presence,
Making a magical sound.
The canopy moves in a synchronised dance
Waving goodbye to the breeze.
There's a harmony and a melody that can never be overlooked.
The woods come together in this special movement creating wonder for those on earth.
The pine trees have practised their rehearsal a lot of times
And the cold wind is their music.
Some pieces of wood that are now painting the forest floor, strewn all over were once giant creatures greeting the sky.
Now they mould into the soil below..
But the circle of life goes on as it often does.
These tree barks are now home to ants and caterpillars and insects and tiny creatures with no home.
Even after a tree's death, it can provide life to many beings.
Little vines creep up over the brown on the forest floor, making sure that the dead tree barks don't feel lonely.
Everything humans do is for themselves.
We give love because we expect love and loneliness is our imperfection.
But nature teaches us that the entire forest is one,
Breathing together, living together, dying together
And even after death, growing together.
I was in the forest and I saw the trees dancing.
neth jones Apr 10
baby blue skies cold
fresh snow covers soft earth
                growth awakening
haiku inspired
James Ignotus Apr 10
Love moves like wind that stirs the silent trees,
It bends the bough but never breaks the stone.
It whispers truths in rustling melodies.

It pours like rain that falls on trembling seas,
Then leaves as sudden, and we stand alone—
Love moves like wind that stirs the silent trees.

It burns like sun through winter’s brittle freeze,
Then hides in clouds where shadows chill the bone.
It whispers truths in rustling melodies.

It grows like moss in darkened symmetries,
A quiet bloom where none had ever shone—
Love moves like wind that stirs the silent trees.

It carves through time like roots in centuries,
Reclaiming all we thought was carved in stone.
It whispers truths in rustling melodies.

So heed the hush of nature’s mysteries:
The heart is earth, the soul is overgrown.
Love moves like wind that stirs the silent trees—
It whispers truths in rustling melodies.
Let love keep you grounded
evangeline Apr 7
Look to the garden
Should the bricks start to crumble
Earth will light the way
Elo Apr 3
tawny leaf-littered
autumn's cold chill
amber sun, filtered
one tree, one hill

smoky-water rains
water scented earth
heart-loss pains
worms unearth'd

bristled seeds drift
sunset winds, rest
fluff and dust admidst
a heaving chest

sun-warmth falter
cloud coats gold
body upon an altar
everything turns cold
I gave my globe a spin
and watched it whirl -
far too fast to read
the blood-bought labels,
printed on its paper shell.

The summer dawn summoned me
beyond the entry door,
so I stepped outside to
plant my boots on a larger sphere
where the scale is one to one
and all the hues are earth tones.

I raised my hand to feel the sweep
of a morning breeze
and stooped to cup a draft
from a meandering stream.

That hand might be mine or theirs
or yours or ours. It’s all the same!

There is only one air mass,
but a single body of water
and not a hectare of sod
can draw its borders or confess its name.

April, 2025
Intended for a new book to be called Out of Exile
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