death | Talk To The Shoe

Such beautiful words for an amazing time of year. Lovely poem, Mit. I can’t wait to see more from you.

Death Is Never More Beautiful

In unwavering reverence,

We watch as she dances,

Hues of autumn adorn her ever reaching branches.

With a natural pluck,

Each canvas spirals down,

Until nothing but death now blankets the ground.

For so long we have sought,

The solitude of her darkest places,

Forced from shadows we now bare our own faces.

Death has now befallen her.

Yet, death … has not beaten her.

She stretches exposed arms,

Void of those she held dear,

Rooted against all threatening new life next year.

Standing bare and vulnerable,

Her loss is witnessed by all,

Heaven’s perfect example of our choice to stand tall.

Held captive in a place

Where heartache and darkness rule,

She towers the world,

All proof … death is never more beautiful.

Blame It On The Moon

Black velvet sky ablaze with stars,

Truly blooms the love of ours.

A smile lights up a stolen glance,

Lovers blessed to have the chance.

Snowy egrets take to flight,

The pair on wing into the night.

We dash away to take our time,

A feathered touch, so sublime.

Thermal currents make me soar,

Waves crash down upon the shore.

I hold you close, floating high,

From every gasp and trembled sigh.

When sleep claims us way too soon…

… I blame it on the moon.

Talk To The Shoe