Eyes made rain in mossy woods
grey with ancientness of purpose.
Love’s reach, like drops on polished glass,
rushed down before those who speak their mind -
Unworthy of reflection - falling.
Love’s reach like stream to wave,
Yearning stretch of drying roots,
Or desert cactus fat from former rains.
Water's flow, waters flow
Many waters flowing
Dirt from ocean sand dollars,
A starfish donning night's blanket,
And moonlight on the whale's back.
Beach unfurled, sandy tendril,
Uncrossed boundary, willful water,
Dawn alone calls ocean forth -
Resurrection's sweet caress.
Composed February 26-27, 2004 and June 1, 2004 by Mark Feezell / DrFeezell.com
Edited and Dedicated to the Public Domain (CC0 1.0) 2024
Image: Moss on Tree Branch (DSC05002)
poetry, uncollected
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