Autumn

Shivered shedding shrugs on high,
listing, drifting, sullen leaves,
falling down and down to die,
so the end that Autumn brings.

Brittled green of frozen grass,
huddled into sodden earth,
bearing full the frozen task,
waits for Winter's heavy birth.

Straggled, struggled branch and twig,
sulking dark to threaten sky,
looming, lusting, overhead,
frosted tears on singed bark sigh.

Waiting always through the days,
holding deep the hope of life,
so does nature plan her ways,
readying, to claim her tithe.
 

Raw

It was raw, that place, where you wounded me,
even though you had no understanding of the blow,
nor that words had become a weapon which could
injure, even kill, and time and distance blinded

eyes, which could no longer see, and yet, I
dreamed of vision being restored, of time
opening up to savage you with light, that the
reflection could spread around and beyond

the weeping sore, and whisper healing breath
upon the seeping flesh of heart, and soul, and
mind, of all that I had ever thought myself to be,
and yet, without it, the pain became a force which

pushed me on, seeking for my own sure bandage,
something which could wrap around and hide for
a time, the truth of what had been, a salve for hurt
which had no name; such are the raw moments.

Mission

We stand upon the edge of life
and search the track for sense,
itch of time is in night's pay,
the bell sounds recompense.

The willing start the journey soon,
with mission not yet known,
and in the deepest part of mind,
desire to learn is born.

Gloss of hope can be soon lost,
the gleam of distant truths,
no longer spring eternal;
for age has outlived youth.

So take the time to ponder well,
the path that you will walk,
life's mission takes some pondering,
to reap the best rewards.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2016/05/22/wordle-252/