The touching Innocent of the rain,
The arrogance of the clouds,
Heavy with dew, the grass weeps.
Ancient trees eavesdropping, on whispered breeze;
They have been scarred by forgotten insults.
I toss the pebble into the river,
And watch it ripple.
I have moved the ocean.
The water is so clear,
I can see dreams chiseled at the bottom.
The edge of a season.
Summers humid fingers,
Tugging on springs patient skirts.
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Poem #7 - Natural Beauty, Behold your Mortality
PoesíaThis is a poem describing my trip to the forest. Although I am not very good at descriptions. You have to read the poem to get your own feel from it, Because every reader will look at things from a different perspective. I tried to focus on everyth...
