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Haley Harrison Aug 2020
I stand in a dessert without a single dune
- just flat sand as far as the eye can see,
And high above me: an unreachable Moon,
silently shining its silver on me.

Too distant for me to hear,
- but I know it sings
A soft lullaby about fear,
And sorrow, and broken wings.

So I keep walking, further still,
Through this nothingness of sand,
An emptiness I cannot fill,
I wish for a helping hand.

But there is none, and anyway
A helping hand I couldn't use:
I alone must walk this way,
Stand and win, or fall and lose.

A whisper from above and far
Tells me I'll be home soon;
I need no guiding star -
I have a guiding Moon.
14.12.2019.
Note: The dessert is a metaphor for depression, while the Moon represents the will to live.
Haley Harrison Aug 2020
My gaze flickering across this landscape divine -

a whirlwind of sentiments unfolds.

Yet a single word echoes across my mind:

mine, mine, mine.


These hills, these trees, the distant shore,

as sure as the breeze caressing the steeple:

they are part of me, and more -

I am at home, safe, with my people.


I feel it, I know it, the comfort it sings -

whispers of safety, a lullaby to my broken wings:

familiar and gentle, deep in my bones,

the ancestry calling from ancient white stones.


Rosemary, lavender, olives, and fig trees,

they tell me of history, of proud victories;

of battles, of sadness, of stories untold,

the generations with lingering spirits of old.


This is my land, I belong here;

the soft hum of time; a smile and a tear.
30.07.2019.
Visignano, Istria (Croatia)

(Latin, mea terra = my land)
Norman Crane Aug 2020
I am white clouds
Immobile
Blue sky drifting
Apart from me cicadas buzz loudly
Bare back on hot cedar planks
Mindfulness in bloom
Ideas like dandelion seeds
Arise before floating beyond the roof line
I am time—
The lawnmover engine turns,
reality returns.
Norman Crane Aug 2020
in the arctic air
the sins of the tundra are
absolved
                in passing
the sun's beaming face
did smile upon the landscape
with a bright visage
Marisa May 2020
coming back to you like the rain revisits time and time again
washing over your valleys and mountaintops

little by little your layers disappear
you are left a clean surface
your forgotten shimmering through

and every layer you’ve ever had is shed, a second skin
everything you’ve ever feared spills out from your ears
and every summit you’ve climbed peeks out at your belly
every wound you’ve suffered shimmers from underneath the surface
oceans of tears like puddles filling up your collarbones to the brim

you’re a landscape full of forgotten things
Naomi Parfitt May 2020
Still
Yet branches twitch edged green leaves
                        to fall.
Thick clouds of charred ivory black
are dryly brushed
over blue streaks.
A heavy burnt grey mist scatters
                        over red houses
                        that hide
still
a picture.
Bhill Apr 2020
enchanting is the word
stone formations with hypnotic mystery
formations that only the mother can create
mother earth will nourish all elements she produces
hiding past creatures in ornamental rock with windswept colors
colors so exposed to the surrounding landscape
what do you see

Brian Hill - 2020 # 120
What DO you see?
bcb Mar 2020
from the sun, I was conceived. for the sun, I labored in patience, but to the sun, I will not be conquered. when we first took a glance into this barbarous land, it was the sun who greeted us,’to the saguaro, seventy-five years of endurance amongst this toiled, arduous earth in order to receive the gifts of me!’ and so the saguaro, spartans of the sonoran desert, endured. oh the stories we hold, the landscapes we’ve seen. After seventy-five years, I watched as the arms of the saguaro began to develop, sprouting and scintillating were flowers sublime and fruits, foreign to the desert eye. all around me, the saguaro cried, ’beseech us with your gifts, our sun, let our labor be glorified!’ this cry was not found within me. instead, I pressed, ’from the sun, I was conceived. for the sun, I labored in patience, but to the sun, I will not be conquered.’ I will not surrender to that of my fears or to that of what I might depend on. I will remain a spear, eyes set on the beyond. I will be steadfast.

be well,
bcb
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