Gentle Giants

Rider’s view in Avenue of the Giants, California. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Gentle  Giants

 

Packed together shoulder to shoulder,

 

Stretching higher than a rainbow’s sigh,

 

The redwoods reach up and scrape the sky.

 

No wider than a river’s grin,

 

No longer than a cloud can cry.

 

What majesty these giants portray,

 

As they reign from day to day.

 

Their subjects are content

 

For gentle do the scepters sway.

 

Only the wind can make them smile

 

As they share wisdom for awhile.

 

Tall and proud they guard the land

 

Gentle giants mile after mile.

 

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Nothing More

English: Wind Turbines located outside of Palm Springs, CA (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Nothing More

 

Who is that walking past my door?

 

It is the wind and nothing more.

 

For a moment a shadow hesitates,

 

Then it goes on and through the gate.

 

Who is whispering outside this wall?

 

I’m sure if I looked I’d see nothing at all.

 

Is there a person playing a mean trick?

 

Doesn’t he know I could be really sick?

 

I’m holding my breath within this cell.

 

The shadow is back and I know him well.

 

Around this bed my friends gather and talk.

 

They remember how we used to walk.

 

All voices hush as someone passes the door.

 

I thought, It is the wind and nothing more.

 

My friends are leaving with tears in their eyes.

 

I’m puzzled and ask, “What’s the matter, guys?”

 

But they ignore me as they go out the door.

 

One said, “It is the wind and nothing more.”

 

I don’t understand this turn of events.

 

I’ve tried to comprehend but it doesn’t make sense.

 

I turn to my new friend as we go out the door.

 

I ask, “Is it really the wind and nothing more?”

 

“Your friends are mistakenly blaming the wind.

 

But their way of thinking will come to an end.

 

Some will greet me as I enter their room.

 

Others will panic at my voice of doom.

 

You heard me walking past your door.

 

I enter with the wind, but I’m much, much more.

 

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Two Gossamer Wings

Detail of original engraving “The Hours” by Francesco Bartolozzi showing gossamer wings on a nymph (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The storm raged throughout the night,

The thunder was loud and the lightning was bright,

I slept in the basement to avoid the worst,

For I was of the opinion that hell had burst,

Straight line wind gusts of sixty or more,

Had blown a tree over and knocked open my door,

When morning dawned I cleared the debris,

And said a short prayer about the death of a tree,

The sun was shining and the sky was clear,

But I heard a sound that seemed very near,

At first I guessed it had to be a mouse,

But I knew for certain it was in my house,

A baseball bat was in my hand just to be sure,

For I remembered the tree had made my house less secure,

From room to room I searched for the sound,

I’d gone through most of the house and nothing was found,

“My bedroom!”  The thought jolted my mind,

I tightened my grip, not sure what I’d find,

The door was open and the lights were on,

The shape under the covers had to be someone,

As I got closer I slowly raised the bat,

I was slightly afraid, but don’t tell anyone that,

Carefully I pulled back the sheet and to my surprise,

A woman stared at me with two large luminous eyes,

Her skin was glowing and I could tell at a glance,

I’d never seen anyone like her, even by chance,

She was startled by my appearance, I tried to calm her fears,

It was at that moment I noticed her tall pointed ears,

Without any warning I kissed her ripe ruby lips,

Her eyes grew even larger when she felt my fingertips,

Pushing aside the covers she leaped up and hovered in the air,

Mesmerized by her beauty, I gasped to see her bare,

She wore no make-up, no bracelets or shiny rings,

But behind her back fluttered two gossamer wings,

An angel or fairy queen, I didn’t know for sure,

Because at that moment my thoughts were not pure,

As her mood changed, her color changed too,

I was glad to see she now had a warmer hue,

She was offering herself to one without wings,

Perhaps she knew I could do other things,

She smiled at me coyly and I almost burst,

My heart was pounding wildly, I was at my worst,

Her wings beat steadily as she stayed out of reach,

“If you want me, then it’s patience I’ll teach,”

We dined, danced, and talked for awhile,

Different worlds didn’t matter, I could tell by her smile,

Later in the night she fluffed up a nest,

I thought she was tired and needed her rest,

Instead she drew me close and wrapped her wings around,

She took me on a flight, somewhere heaven bound,

Her slow release kept me under her spell,

I didn’t know whether I’d reached heaven or hell,

That night she taught me much about certain things,

Inside I was flying even without gossamer wings,

She left late one night after a storm rolled in,

Desiring to be free and fly with the wind,

Now I stand in each storm waiting for her return,

My heart is empty without her and for her I yearn.

 

 

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Facing the Storms

An occluded mesocyclone tornado (Oklahoma, May 1999) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I stood facing the storm,

Shaking my fists at the sky,

“I’m as angry as you are,

Don’t you dare pass me by!”

 

The storm roared out an answer,

One that I couldn’t comprehend,

From the clouds lightning flashed,

No way my position I could defend,

 

“You think that I’m afraid,

To hear your mighty roar,

But through the years I’ve gotten strong,

And you don’t scare me anymore,”

 

Large clumps of ice were thrown,

But I dodged each and every one,

Then the wind howled at me,

Thinking I was completely done,

 

I raised my arms once more to protest,

I shouted, “Is that all you’ve really got?”

The winds blew even stronger then,

And my question I soon forgot,

 

The angry storm surged ahead,

With me squarely in its sights,

Drenched and bruised I stood firm,

Determined to last through the night,

 

The winds slowed and died down,

The storm was coming to an end,

“What made you want to defy me?” it asked,

“You were brave and strong, my friend,”

 

“Today I buried someone dear to my heart,

Too young to pass away,

I have nothing left to live for,

I’m not ready for a brand new day,”

 

The storm said, “The world would lose a man,

Someone who is filled with love inside,”

The storm was barely a whisper,

“You’d be missed if you were injured or died,”

 

The rain fell in soft little drops,

Tears falling from the storm’s eyes,

I gained respect for a storm,

And I was willing to give life another try,

 

Sunshine warmed me at the break of day,

The world was beautiful again,

My tears had fallen along with the storm’s,

And I was ready for my new life to begin.

 

 

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In the Dead of Winter Springs Hope

The cold winter winds came in gusts,

Each seemingly stronger than the one before,

Eric’s thin coat was pulled as tight as it could be,

But it was no match for the icy fingers that tore,

 

Yes, simply tore into him the moment he left,

The wind showed no mercy, just like the judge,

Who kicked Eric out of his house, his protection,

Eric could have refused to budge,

 

It was a financial winter but his funds had been invested,

Eric was prepared but it was worse than he feared,

Investors and scammers slipped away with his funds,

His assets were frozen and then disappeared,

 

The rich were getting richer, the poor begged for food,

Why should Eric fight anymore for his rights,

While lawyers working for rich men tore into him,

With their icy words they gave him sleepless nights,

 

Through the winter wonderland he now trudged,

Leaving a trail through the gathering snow,

Wondering how he had lost control of his life,

What would become of him, he did not know,

 

There was nothing Eric could do in times like these,

When his world was turned upside down,

His job was gone, his family had departed,

Foreclosures and hardships were everywhere in town,

 

The wind laughed derisively knowing Eric would not last,

Pushing him this way and that until in a heap,

He collapsed, making a thump against a door,

Rousing a widow who was trying to sleep,

 

She overcame her fright and opened the door,

Discovered a man and she was filled with dread,

She pulled him into the warmth of her home,

Overjoyed when she found he was not dead,

 

The next few days as his life hung in the balance,

The widow was determined that he would not die,

Through feverish dreams she stayed with him,

While he fought the demons he wanted to defy,

 

He was sliding down into winter’s cold sleep,

When she lay upon him her full body length,

A warmth he remembered that made life worthwhile,

The warmth of her body brought him strength,

 

In those moments his life began to change,

From silent depths, from despair to desire,

She brought him through an emotional range,

And within the ice started a raging fire,

 

She wanted him to love and live again,

And to awaken to a fresh new start,

Winter’s cold wind gave way to spring,

As flowers bloomed so did his heart,

 

The world around still needed repairs,

But Wall Street was recovering and going strong,

The widow’s house became a refuge,

For others were escaping from a world gone wrong,

 

They helped all that were driven their way,

Began a new society built on love, not wealth,

Where people found new happiness,

And recovered their mental health,

 

Even when the world and winter’s cold icy blasts,

Tried to destroy all within their respective scopes,

The power of love was so much stronger still,

Able to conquer all fears and bring new hopes,

 

The power of one made a difference,

Just one woman taking a chance,

Who opened her door to a stranger,

And opened her heart to change and romance.

 

 

 

I Followed a Path

Image by Common Pixels via Flickr

Wanting to
meditate and discover the good,

I followed a
path deep into the wood,

Until before
me a great oak tree stood,

Its branches
mighty, its crown regal and thick,

The kind of
tree I’d be if I had my pick,

I wondered,
how long has this oak been around?

What made
this oak special? Why hasn’t it blown down?

Of course, I
mused, when a storm came through,

The massive trunk
deserves the credit for what would ensue,

Yet I realized
there was more than what met the eye,

The trunk
needed support to stand and touch the sky,

Roots keeping
the oak anchored were beneath the tree,

Spreading
out in all directions for stability,

I could see the
mighty oak was more than a tree,

It was a
symbol reminding me not to judge what I see,

Because like
the oak there’s more within me,

T here’s
part of me that’s in public view,

Exposed so
people can see what I do,

But beneath my
surface my values are set,

The part of
me that might be stronger yet,

To survive
the storms of life these roots will grow,

When
troubles are encountered my character will show,

Storms in
life are impossible to outrace,

So the
challenges they bring I will embrace,

I’ll be like
the mighty oak if I learn to endure,

The storms
of life with a heart that’s pure,

I left with
knowledge from where the oak tree stood,

Followed the
path out of the wood,

My search
was over, I finally understood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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