Writing Dust

When_stones_talk_too.jpg

Oh, so many words
rolling out
chiseled out
typed out
thrown out.

Here nature
helps out
the artist
who chiseled out
a poem.

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2 thoughts on “Writing Dust”

  1. How quickly words
    Rise as damp air
    Fall upon ear
    Grow green,
    Setting roots,
    Bud and flower,
    Passed on
    As seeds,
    One to another

    A bright meadow
    Of shared hearts.
    ________________________

    Just got back from the Temple yesterday after a long weekend there. It felt like mid-winter, but with an ever so slight feeling of maybe just a wee bit of tipping into spring! And tomorrow maybe we’ll know how long of winter on Groundhog’s Day! :0)

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