beauty

The Season

~ Emma ~ Leave a comment

It lives inside, not out.
I am the mountain beside you, above you, behind you, ahead of you.
I have heard your footsteps and watched you float.
I can tell you that this is the correct way, you’ve made it to my force, now let me carry you.

It lives inside, not out.
The outside is a shell to protect and house the soul, nothing more but cells, skin, bone, follicle.
Deep, deep inside is the song I hear you sing, it penetrates even the tallest of my brothers and sisters.
You have always had a strong tune but this one now is cause for eruption, corruption, an intense bloom.

I love watching you dance and explore.
My favourite part of watching over the land is seeing and feeling your love for all the element.
I have been here for centuries, waited for you a long time.
Now here you are with your gifts and emotion and light so bright it softens all strife.

My wisdom has befallen you and your inhale absorbs the depth.
When you sit in this place and your mind wanders, I catch the thoughts as they jump and you grasp my response and release.
The wings between us, silent, moving, gliding, attaching our hearts, binding and holding.
Thank you for coming, I did not know you could, in your precious presence, gift a height as high as mine.

The sky between us, the water inside us, the stillness around us, the warmth we create.
The engines below us, the electrical above us, we are fluid in our pursuit for comfort and peace.
I tell you a story, as you listen then gracefully repeat, it is so familiar to me, you bring my branches stability.
My rolling hills, creaked valleys, distant rivers and icy caves, changed, because of you.

I’m watching you today so carefully, you took your time with reflection, I felt the dazzle of emotion and I heard your final sing.
Let yourself feel my thunder as I pour the green through your eyes.
You have won something beautiful and being here next to me has always been your reason.
The day is not over yet, the flowers dance, the water holds, the air is slow, you are the season.

Write the Night

~ Emma ~ Leave a comment

I like to write in the night,
When there is no more light.
The quiet zombies, their grip not so tight.
I wonder if I screamed, would I cause a fright?

Just because it is past one o’clock,
Means nothing to a writer who just can’t stop.
Maybe I’ll meet Santa when he makes his drop.
How funny would that be, I’d ask him to hang out, “let’s talk.”

Alas it is spring, so no Santa sightings for me.
I don’t even have a chimney, a house, or cookies or milk, hmm let’s see.
I know, if I saw Santa, if he came to me, I’d write him a story about the sea.
I’d show him how I can make words turn into aromatic delicious tea.  

I want to right this day, write this night away.
Let’s think up more ways, you know that I know, how to really play.
The water was warm and comforting and now here I stay.
Locked in this position not quite yet ready, to end the slay.

I do not fear the clock ticking further and further to dawn.
The pleasure I receive my fingers moving like this, impossible to yawn.
What’s that sound? I hear footsteps outside of a delicate, soft fawn.
I’m in the forest of my mind, deep in the woods, definitely not on someone’s front lawn.

The pockets and squares of yellow in the sky.
It’s hard to keep my focus on just one thing, I’m not going to lie.
Writing in the night carries secrets you cannot find, even with eye spy.
The tunes keeping me grounded, I sort of feel like I could fly.

Did you know that there is a message waiting for you?
It’s hanging, waiting, holding, watching, its colour is blue.
You don’t believe me? Watch what happens in a day or two.
I won’t spoil the surprise, the letters will spell themselves in a strange skew.

Trust it. I’m writing in the night this poem because it is what I do.
Just for you.
And by you, I mean me too.
How beautiful and broken the world we live. Let us sing and sleep and stay true.