Who does the wind think it is?
When will change not want its way?
we, Flowers, able
despite the adversity
to rise up, to thrive
Original thought credit:
Proverbs 4:7-8 “…get wisdom: and with all thy getting get understanding. Exalt her, and she shall promote thee: she shall bring thee to honour, when thou dost embrace her.”
Our table, looks like life got solved here
The time we had….
Our table, looks like love was made here
The time we had!
Location: Frank Lloyd Wright Home and Studio; Oak Park, Illinois
We are alone, but looking less alone these days, these nights
A bit oxidized, without a second pair O’ eyes to tend to things too
And of gardens, flowers and florals seem to be in season into perpetuity
Libraries, are we, arent we?
May our posterity, should they someday see it so, pity us none
“Why’s she so aftaid?” asked Red
“To punch life in the teeth?” thought White
“No, no, no, no, no,” said Blue, “To just back down, knowing she’d forget!”
You already know
I already know
You’re wishing away
I already denied
You already denied
I wish away
Given all we think
What we know
Despite all we wish
What we deny
I cost too much
We share Little in common
The Monk and Me
Soft, furtive early risers
Though grounded, I, facing West,
Facing East, He
And dining together, I linger
Little Green Space we share, we
Is the night all that big
Or does it simply seem as such?
Is it the days, desperate
Cloudbanks looming in the East
That force away any silver-lining hopes?
Is there quiet solace anyplace?
How long’s it been, baby
Since a wind came to your window
A breeze of the bilowy sort
And though it arrived loud
How many days, mama
The fog, it clogged your lungs
A freedive into the depths
And through its grey unknown