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Posts Tagged ‘verse’

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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Sky Message

Up there, cracked crust,
Continental drift, ancient collisions,
Earth history sped up
On that blue canvas,
A million years in a day.

Cirrocumulus shaped just right,
If you were blind and could
Reach out it would be brail
In the sky, only those few
Could read it.

I do not know what it would say,
A message from those before perhaps,
Or from the earth before people walked it.
We are just spectators here,
We are more temporary than the shifting skies.

Kyle McHale          2013

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Ticking Travel

Venture to a most peaceful spot,
In city, or woods, or vast plains,
A spot to slow the inner clock,
To slow the beating of the brain.

Stop the flooding head of much,
Too much to bear, feel, and see,
All little clocks with ticking parts,
All tiny thoughts that visit me.

Nothing can work all at once,
The world with its timing,
All little greased up ticking parts,
All long roads with their winding.

That dry desert road once had all
The dreams I always tried to chase.
To get there and find them full of
Dry land, filth, and dusty waste

Let my vision pass itself
To see the green road up ahead,
Led to a rotting jungles end,
A jungle with its spirit dead.

Each road of ice, fire, and rain,
Had an end of freeze, burn, and flood,
At expense just one ticking part,
One part brain, one part drop of blood.

For blood the grease that works the ticks,
Which vision knows to change with it,
Where I let the stars and the moon
Consume my thoughts for a little bit

You may have just heard the water.
For I saw a streaking vast sky,
A place too large for all my blood,
You may have seen a fish swim by

To stare at you, to read your thoughts,
To understand the driving force,
Because complete had time to wait
To think about the one true source.

All perceptions to contemplate,
Though one part lost in each pure spot,
A piece gained from water and rock,
From thick jungle air steaming hot.

Once pulse slows down to learn something
And experience is gained,
The ticking body falls apart,
All blood bleeds out with pouring rain,

Yet peace may have flocked to the heart,
All peaceful spots become the same.
To see, to live, to think, to do,
To bleed, to die, to know what’s tame,

To feel the parts left out there,
To know they are filled by those places,
Blood has mountain jungle in it,
Peaceful things fill up those spaces.

To remember, cherish, and save,
To smile on earth, and in grave.

Kyle McHale      2009

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The Sharing Space

One day far away from now,
When heavens closer to my feet,
I’ll let the path behind me form
A pebbled road so we can meet,

But if light finds me from the sky
And I float away into the dust,
Know that warm road is there for you,
It’s been worn in from me for us.

To meet at different moments,
Then cross paths in times true spot,
I may leave on cold winters day,
You may be there when summers hot,

But know my love has entered earth,
The rock, the dirt, the lovers ground,
Know those whispers travel from
Out there and cross where you have found.

Standing there just take a breath,
Look up with arms embracing all,
Let the natural forces find you,
Feel the love from water fall

Down from your head into your heart,
From heart to foot to spirit,
Don’t think too much but just enough,
That message sent for you to hear it.

When it’s done, when it’s done for you,
To share the peaceful space with me,
The world holds it for us now,
The love is what will let it be.

Kyle McHale      2011

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