January 17, 2011 “winter’s reign”
“winter’s reign”
*
cold gray
bleeds from a lurid sky
trickling
over boney skeletons of black trees
standing
in murky pools of dead earth
and winter’s reign
tlh 1/17/11
December 7, 2011 “freedom”
“freedom”
~~~~~~~
the river is up
not angry yet
but swelling as it flows
beneath a pouring rain
through a moonless night
groping along its banks
feeling with watery fingers
for a weakness
a way out
scratching
clawing at the edges of roads
and fields
at the foundations of houses
and barns
searching for an escape
on the verge of havoc
of destruction
rising to flood
and a chance at freedom
tlh 12/7/11
October 21, 2011 “autumn rain”
“autumn rain”
trees under an autumn rain
flowing out from a foggy mountain
in pleated ridges and hollows
shedding their rusting leaves
like flecks of burnt orange and gold
copper toned reflections of the past
and places I remember
when the sun shone bright in a careless blue sky
above the verdant summer of life
when living was easy under the shade of trees
that were there long before my birth
and will remain
long after the last rusting leaf is shed
to another autumn rain
©tlh 10/21/11
photo by tlh
September 17, 2011 “a thought on clouds”
“a thought on clouds”
*
clouds
crowded upon the firmament
of an angry sky
a herd of fat gray beasts
rank upon rank
vying for position
dark and dismal
somber and severe
sagging, heavy bellies
pregnant with water of life
travailing in labor
giving birth to a deluge…
precious rain is born unto the earth
some from violent storms
some from peaceful showers
some for rivers and the sea
some for flowers and fields
some for floods
some for the thirsty
or puddles or birdbaths
some to wash a dusty traveler
or blood from a battlefield
or tears
some to dance or sing
or make love in
some for rainbows
and snowmen
some to tickle the faces of fascinated children
then out comes the sun
and all return whence they came
to again become
clouds
©tlh 9/17/2011
April 4, 2011 “early spring rain”
“early spring rain”
*
winter’s remnant
hangs from a lifeless sky
a thick gray veil
over the black trees
sweeping its sad feathery fingers
over the pallid face of melancholy earth
heavy
on the pale cheeks of dour hillsides
the cloud
weeps misty tears of hushed silence
broken only by whispers
of drip-drop-dripping
into dreary puddles
and muffled murmurs
of muted songbirds
silently shifting on their perches
shivering beneath ruffled feathers
as they disappear
behind a shadowy curtain
of cold fog
©tlh 4/4/11
Listen to this here:
January 9, 2011 “woman…fujisan” fifth in a series
“Rain on Fuji”
tears of the climber
the sound of Fuji laughing
clamoring rain falls
©tlh 1/9/11
The image is of a woodblock print of Japanese artist Hokusai’s Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji: (#3) Rain Beneath the Summit
September 10, 2010 “minor fall”
“minor fall”
distant thunder rolls
o’er painted misty mountains
reds, golds, and yellows
dance in muted light
of kaleidoscope music
a symphonic dirge
tap-tapping on leaves
cacophonous crescendo
autumn rain falling
©tlh 9/10/2010
Listen to this here:
(Image courtesy of rainsonggoddess)
Thanks, Red
September 1, 2010 “missing my love”
“missing my love”
the gloomy gloom glooming
of the dim doom dooming
from sad tears tearing
up my eye
like
the drip-drip-dripping
of the raindrops dropping
from grey clouds clouding
up my sky
as
the tick-tock-tocking
of my heartbeats knocking
from my heart’s lock locking
up my pain
til
the click-click-clicking
of my heart’s lock picking
from my love’s love drying
up my rain
©tlh 9/1/2010
Listen to this here:
(Image courtesy of mightywhisk @photobucket)
Thanks, Red
June 22, 2010 “STORM”
June 22, 2010
“STORM”
I felt the wind on my face
I heard the clamor of the leaves
In the trees with their undersides turned up
To the darkening sky
To the swirling, roiling, boiling sky
I watched the clouds gathering
I watched them cover up the sun
Until the day was as dark as the night
With the thickening clouds
With clambering, verging, merging clouds
I saw the bright lightning flash
I cringed at the electric crack
The jagged blue-white finger scorched the ground
Purple slashed ‘cross my eyes
Across my blinding, searing, tearing eyes
I felt the thunder explode
I heard its wrath affront the air
The unleashed anger of forgotten gods
Cursing with grotesque sound
With cacophonous, booming, dooming sound
I felt the rain’s silent splash
I saw its march across the field
Cascading torrents of heaven born orbs
Soaking the thirsting ground
Healing the parching, drying, dying ground
TLH 6/22/2010
Just Say’n
Listen to this here:
June 17, 2010 “River Reflection”
June 17, 2010 “River Reflection”
I stood by the river today and watched the water rushing by; it was brown and murky and full of debris. Rains to the north had nearly flooded the banks of the normally, slow, deliberate, easy-flowing river, and turned it into the beginnings of a torrent, a roiling dangerous thing that one must be wary of.
The river valley runs for miles and miles as it winds it’s way through the mountains of my home, and it carries the waters of a thousand lesser bodies and streams along on this part of the journey into unknown places, and on to their final home, the sea.
The river runs almost dry from time to time, to the point that it seems as if it will die and be no more, and leave nothing but a jagged, rocky scar through the mountains…but it trickles on, eking it’s way along, waiting for the rains; the rains that can come from any direction, at any time, but always from above and pure. Whether the rain falls in a misty drip, drip, drip, or a devastating deluge, it comes from the heavens, and the thirsty, empty river is waiting for it, longing for it.
Sometimes, in the spring, the rain falls easy and steady for days, and the river becomes a beautiful, peaceful scene as the trees and grasses along the bottoms begin to bud and blossom. As the season wears on, the rising and lowering of the water creates tepid pools and deposits of debris all along the banks. The riverside becomes less pleasant, and more ugly. Then on one of those blistering hot, stifling, humid, summer afternoons a storm comes. The rain pours down from the sky. The same, pure, heavenly water, that before came slow and easy and made the river so beautiful, now crashes down in a tumultuous downpour! And the violent river rises and races, swirling and rolling, and soon rids the bank of the debris and filth that had collected there, and washes it all away. The storm ends, the rains subside, and the river settles back into it’s normal channel and flows happily along to the sea.
My life is like these mountains, and my soul, like the river. The mountains will continue; with a beautiful river of flowing water winding through them, or with a jagged scar cutting across them…they will endure. Life will go on.
My soul, like the river, needs the pure water of love to flow through it in order to sparkle and fulfill it’s destiny. But, there are times when the love comes so rarely that my soul becomes dry and seems to have disappeared all together, and then there times when love comes and goes so often that my soul becomes filled with all sorts of emotional debris and filth; not a pretty place at all. Then, suddenly, from the heavens above, the clouds open, and the pure water of love pours down in a deluge of driving white rain, and crashes and careers over my dying soul, and washes away all the leftovers and ugly baggage…all the debris and filth is replaced with clear, clean, pure…LOVE.
Anyone care to take a swim?
Just Say’n
What folks think...