Monday, November 30, 2015

Congregate























When the skies get pale ~ they are streaks of coal,
Jet-black and quick-like burning the sky.
Lonesome and frost-bitten,
They congregate to cry out their cold-cries,
And their breath hits the air like a puff of engine-exhaust,
Sputtering out as an after-thought,
An ethereal-poem released,
Hanging mid-air for a moment and then disappearing,
Over the branch into the common-air,
Who swallows it up in one bountiful-gulp,
 And the raven-birds create tension on the quiet-branches,
That draws my impatient-eye to them.
Seeking change I congregate with them, a respite from the bitter-cold.
The lifeless-branch moves, and I cannot look away, .....I will not look-away.

                             ~~Bookishkind, Copyright 2015, All Rights Reserved






Wednesday, November 25, 2015

This is My Autumn Prayer (Repost)

I wrote this 5 years ago and I try to repost it every year. We have much to be thankful for!

 
(Autumn Prayer) ~ I Raise My Cup To Fall
I raise my cup to fall, to blessings given one and all.
The harvest bounty laid, before eyes and hands bent in Grace.

 
                        ~Bookish Kind

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Close Up

Fall - Autumn - Harvest Time - Whatever you may call it, there is nothing like it. Here is a close up in case you need one.

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Sunday, November 8, 2015

Winter Kin

The sky is your playground,
Yet you seek a friendlier place,
For a time.
Before you leave,
You paint the sky,
With feathers and song.
I will remember you,
All season long.

Yet

Here comes the winter kin,
To take your place,
To make the cold,
A friendlier place,
For me and my kind,
Who drench themselves,
In what they can find,
When scarce it becomes.

Saturday, November 7, 2015

Silence

Silence can be a good thing and often times there are good reasons for it. I've had a season of silence lately, but words are starting to spill out here and there, and maybe, or maybe not, I'll start writing thoughts again soon. My mind has always been wired with words, words, words, and the need to spill them out is why I write here. Silence begets words.

Silence begets thoughts for me,

A certain sort of reverie,

Is required to have fruits of any kind,

That flow with freedom from my mind ~