Summer bids farewell,
with pastel petals falling
toward dry khaki grass parched with thirst,
hanging on for life in powdery dust
yearning for the blessing
hidden in a cloud above about to burst.
Shining leaves of bronze and gold,
breaking free of twisted oaken ancients,
aided by a blast of cold,
rival bolts of flashing sunlight
darting through low hanging clouds.
Down they tumble,
mingling with the pastel petals,
destined soon to dry and die,
ground to powdery dust,
beneath the countless footsteps,
of the bustling passersby.
© Blaise 2018
Fight and flight may not be
the best way to go for me,
Better by far is another way –
Be still and watch;
Stay and pray.
Fragile creatures meant to fly -© Only A Messenger
put in cages, wings clipped,
bereft of tail, mishandled, fallen -
broken hearted die.
Wait and see -
Might this canary in the coal mine
portend the earthly fate
awaiting you and me?
Nowhere to run -© Only a Messenger
that which must be has begun,
tares from wheat,
bitter from sweet,
chaff from grain,
sound of mind from all insane,
dross from gold,
It shall unfold -
wickedness from all that’s good,
stripped away like bark from wood,
dark from light, left from right , manifest,
north from south and east from west,
what is cursed from what is blessed.
Murky gray begone from day!
You shall see - so it must be.
Lukewarm from hot, lukewarm from cold;
that long hidden must unfold,
coward false from true and bold
So it has been long foretold.
Don’t you know? Nowhere to go.