There is a little Pumpkin Shell, In which an old old woman does dwell. She is not alone, For she talks with the trees; And though every movement hurts, Her hair dances with the breeze. . Agawela 04November2022 ©Bearspawprint2022
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REST
Gray, damp, Overcast, Is the sky Behind dark trees. Mildew is growing, Blooming black, The road is Sand, Deep and dry. Plants hang limp With thirst. Work is futile. I sit and rest, While drinking tea. I watch leaves Gently sway, As the slowly drift, Falling away, Falling. Each one, Dancing alone, Until, On the ground, They gather. I sit and rest. I drink tea. The sky is gray. The forest is silver. The air is damp. The sand is Dry, and deep. I sit, resting. I drink my tea. I am older Than I was A little while ago. Leaves gently sway, Falling. REST Agawela October 29, 2022 ⓒBearspawprint2022
Jasmin Is Blooming
Close your weary eyes. Your wishful dreams will follow, Scented siren call. Jasmin Is Blooming April 23, 2022 ©Bearspawprint2022
Sleep Song
Beautiful gentle Female rain, falling for hours, Sings her sweet sleep song. . Bear 10March2022 ⓒBearspawprint2022
Winter Night
I swim among stars. Winter's ocean is black sky. Direction is lost. . Winter Night - haiku Bear 20January2022 ⓒBearspawprint2022
Silence
Winter's sliver moon Has set, leaving cold darkness. Damp leaves are silent. . Silence ____ haiku 08January2022 ©Bearspawprint2022
David Heals
David Is weary So very Weary The Other Saps his Strength Away While He waits While hope Dances Around And around He waits Too weary To dance Too weary For songs For drums For his bass His music Too much Too weary For stories Too weary He waits In silence For answers That are Silent Into Silence Comes The Wild . David Heals 25December2021 ©Bearspawprint2021
Who Cares
SARS-COVID-19 Is a curse, And a blessing. A blessing, As it makes Obvious Who truly cares About others. A curse, Because it makes Obvious Who truly cares For others. And the same, In all personal Relationships. Que Será, Será . Who Cares SARS-COVID-19 Bear 09December2021 ⓒBearspawprint2021
November 2019November 2021Darkness
November 2019 November 2021 Darkness . Yes, I can Self-isolate For two weeks Not a serious Problem Bothersome Bearable Though I can see Time telescoping Stretching A prison of Nothing into years Eternities of Lost moments The lifetime Of humans Shortened Or gone Over with Dead If there is No one No one Who cares Enough To cover The back Of another Protect from The sly betrayal Whirling in a pool Of alone Waiting for those Instants mere Moments of trespass Carried in Greek in Latin Alphabets of contagion Two years Has become eons This weight Of alone Has grown heavy My soul Transmuted Into foolish words And gray skies Grow Darker Night is falling There is no sunset . November 2019 November 2021 Darkness 28November 2021 Bear ⓒBearspawprint2021
While tracking My star, Across the sky Towards the west, Following color Streaks, And the Blackest Deep, Succumbing, I closed My eyes Just for A moment, To rest, So tired, So weary was This human flesh. Then opened, Startled Awake. The cosmos Lurched, A small Gap. My eyes, Opened wide, Saw the world Had moved over And I had not. The ground Was no longer The same ground. Red clay Had become shale, Sliding and unstable, Mountains And foothills Pulled themselves From beneath my feet. I jumped and ran But could not catch Anything solid. Nothing of Substance, Nothing Of honor, No truth, What had been Became what was not. What would be, Became, What is never. Running and Running, As soon As my feet Would feel, Some surface, And pause, Only An instant, Only to orient, To take A direction Reading, Solid became Liquid And mud became mist. I sank, Clawing at Words slipping Away as breath, As fog, As illusion Forcing me To leap and Prong, and Fly dancing In pursuit Of the reality That had gone, Leaving my perceptions Blinded by Streaming tears, My song unheard In anguished echoes, No meaning But a garble of loss. The old people I knew, Became new people With different lives, New relationships, That I never Dreamed in The dreaming worlds, Never touched In the Waking worlds, These new worlds, New beings, Had been Building Themselves, Generating Shimmering surfaces Only as approached, Dissolving When out of sight, Described With new languages Of no meaning, No feeling, Only confusion, A chaos new faces, Grown older, Grown different, New ideas, Translated fantasies, Spoken in Gibberish, And I was Spinning. As each thought Passed by me, Tweaking my Body, Nudging me To turn A little, To turn my head, To my memory, Turn and turn, Turn my heart, And a turn A little More, and Turn more, Faster and faster, Until I became A plasma wind Spinning In place While all that I knew, As comfort, As familiar, As love, Whirled around, My spinning Life, My whirling death, Dancing away On a receding tide Of regret. I ran and Ran dancing, Crying for Mercy, Circling the Abyss, The deepest Well of yesterdays, Of lost Tomorrows, Dark shadows Of never to be. Spinning Light, Spinning Plasma, Hot, Melted light, Between what was And what Had now Become What is not. My hair Flew out From my Whirling head, Each individual Hair a voice Screaming and Whistling, Calling spirit Back Into myself, To become All one With the nothing Of no hope. I whirl, One hand Raised, Open To the vastness That is beyond The knowable Seven Skies; One hand, Gentle across My own Beating heart, And I turn, And turn, And I turn. . BECOMING WHAT IS NOT Bear … 11.15.2015 ⓒBearspawprint2015