Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘trees’

Lost in an English Bog

Now all that’s left is in a fog
Covered up, hidden in the dark
Areas of heart, the confused
Places of where the madness starts.

Lost in some swampy English bog
The going is slow, the course unknown,
Lefts are rights confused in ice mud,
A place of fear that is un-shown.

A few barren trees, a bramble
Or two, a stone near the weeping
Willow that cries over a stream
When it rains in the endless sinking.

A small hope in a small owl
Shows up as a spirit guide.
Which way is out? Where is the light?
A time when true guides never hide.

It hops and darts from tree to stone,
It flies and floats and holds on deep,
A hope in wings above the mud,
My eyes fear down but owl light keeps.

Kyle McHale      2012

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Between Trees and Stars

What floats around the canopy
At night when owls and stars can see
The tops of giant evergreens
Where those wonders are seldom seen?

That place where trunks may kiss the sky,
Where wind and secret stars pass by.
Given life by remoteness deep
Into the woods the whispers keep

That very line a sacred place.
The last green needles seeking space
Towards heavens true star lit map,
An ancient road, an unworn path.

Between there sits some answers to
What can’t be seen in day time blue.
If only one could fly with owls,
Or travel as the grey wolf’s howl.

Kyle McHale      2011

Read Full Post »

The Trees are With Me

Me: “For if I could endure it all
To make it through this dreadful fall,
When my father left with the leaves
To catch and glide that color breeze,

I may see what my father’s done,
Taking pride as his oldest son,
That clarity in autumn light,
That calling out, those pleasant nights,

Where I can send a fire out
Of whipping tails sending up,
Into the space my father went,
Warming all that pain he felt,

And gently touching life’s great web,
Listening to what those trees said.”

The Trees: “We have your father, he is here,
We have his heart out everywhere,

Let us touch you with our grace,
Your father’s heart’s in natural place,
When you gaze towards heaven’s glow,
When you are lost and want to know,

The Great Maker has taken care
Of his brave spirit in the air,
For you know what type he was,
Part wolf and bear, eagle and dove,

Part sea and land, part guiding hands,
Part father, brother, teacher, friend.
You see we needed him so much,
So that his soul could finally touch

All it earned in a mortal life,
To never feel a lonely night,
But you must stay and find that out,
Seek guidance in the spirit clouds,

Then closer to the heart you’ll be,
Yours and his beat beautifully.”

Me: “Dear trees I’m still travelling lost,
I stand where place and time do cross,
I’ll stay with fire close to ground,
I’ll stay lost and hope I’m found

By where my father’s heart has touched,
By how he filled my life with love.
Enjoy his heart in autumn moon,
I’ll see him again but no time soon.

Be at peace with everything,
I’ll look for you when eagles sing.”

Kyle McHale      2010

Read Full Post »

Night Tahoe

About the ancient shaping time,
This craft does form a peaceful sweet,
An air I have never tasted,
That sits on head and tugs the cheek

To magic tasting air. I sit
Outside, above the world sits,
Streaking stars with wondrous eyes
Among huge pines that stretch to fit

To fill pure beauty gap.
What is happening here?
My heart lay still but soul awake,
I sit and think in chair.

The dance of life is slow,
How far away is this place?
World of dancing peace
Exist to change my face.

I have never smelled so sweet an air,
Star dotted paper backs the trees,
Rolls out to cover all but down,
The sweetest things I have to see.

Season’s summer but heaven too,
Sweet kissed air, pine sap residue,
Seep into the water blue
Of a sweeping magic hue.

This feeling I only know,
Where I see and have to go,
Which direction time will go,
Lifting nights at Lake Tahoe.

Kyle McHale      2009

Read Full Post »