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Posts Tagged ‘scene’

Floating Over

This mystic world, those colored trees,
Those rolling hills my dreams do paint,
My gloomy head and foggy thoughts
Collecting to precipitate.

For this place through eyes of men,
Or eyes of bear, or fox, or deer,
Their world’s see what I cannot,
My world’s smoke, theirs is clear.

Pure instinct makes those hearts guide true,
While clouding thoughts weigh on me,
For what to do in such a scene
But sit and think with large pine tree.

Colorful land, colorless sky,
These worlds meet at sheltered creek,
Autumn bronzed and flowing peace,
Pine needle forests pulsing deep,

And oh to sleep but it’s too cold
To rest and escape these thinking things,
You mystic world let me in,
Tell me what my heart can bring.

 Would I add to your confusion?
Or maybe I the one confused,
And this world makes all clear sense,
Or am I the one that has to choose?

Land shutting down, sky holding still,
What’s asleep and what’s awake?
Do shedding leaves mean drowsiness,
Would proper be my hand to shake?

But mystic world answer me,
Take me up in this color mess,
Where trees meet sky and sky meets trees,
Me to float between back and chest

So heart becomes the mystic line.
For land you have a spirit here,
But I the beating heart that’s true,
You confuse with your graying air.

My natural guide will let me hear
Half of your secrets in the ground,
And half the creatures’ place I’ll see
And know your whispers have been found

And placed in my secret pocket,
My thoughts on page, my diary,
But only by pouring out
And floating over all the scene.

Kyle McHale      2009

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Magic Light

I’ve seen the world’s magic light,
One beach morning after night,
That ocean out in front of me,
Some glowing orb on humble sea.

The colors danced like from a brush
That sweeps in hand with artists touch,
To sunrise song that it did sing,
I almost heard the whispering,

And when I tried to listen close,
The magic light became a ghost,
And all dispersed out into space,
And left me with some glowing grace.

Some sacred window I had seen,
A tiny door or opening
Into the truth of golden heart,
For heaven’s road won’t fall apart,

But scatter out when light breaks through,
Becomes too small to get into,
Only to catch a glimpse of it,
Fading before my heart forgets.

Kyle McHale      2010

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