Saturday, July 20, 2013

Maps


mountainside stretches
far and wide
like maps laid out to dry
still wet with ink
heather and sage 
and indian paintbrushes 
trees lean above me
towers and canopies
they listen to me 
and offer no piece
and the flowers just sing
in spite of my flaws
i don't follow the cause
i won't follow your laws
i'd rather see your face
just show me your claws
meet me there
dragonflies in the air
ripples on the lake
sunlight on your hair 
that's just how i feel 
in the deep mountain air 
a thousand small rivers 
run here within
and ten thousand voices
i won't let them in

i've gotta find you 
i've gotta know
rivers are running 
to valleys below
the rocks that i'm throwing 
are sinking beneath 
to drown out the grief 
some sort of relief
and the trail unending 
just leads back to me 

2 comments:

  1. Your poems are always so good. They take me on a journey. And then I get to the last line, and it is like a weight, pulling the meaning of your words into my heart.
    So good lady.

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    Replies
    1. thanks Priscilla...it always makes me happy that you enjoy these : )

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