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Enchanted Forest
Enchanted Forest
I danced through the forest at fall of night,
By guardian mountains and faithful streams,
To where an old lady sat, in ramshackle cabin porch,
Her hands are deeply grained with living cares,
Her face is old, her eyes are wise,
She smiled, we sat, she read my heart,
She looked about us, and waived her arm,
This is Mother Earth, she whispered in my mind,
And all the trees began to shimmer in energetic haze,
Wreathed forms melted away, pure being revealed.
© David R. Durham, All Rights Reserved.
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They Lived and Loved
They Lived and Loved
They lived and loved,
Their childhood friends and summer days,
While all about them daisies sang a sweet serenade,
Their dream is life, their living a dream.
They lived and loved,
Their feet falling, fumbling, caressing rugged Earth,
Sinewed muscles, developing their strength, skill and speed,
Celebrating winning joy, pained in careless fall.
They lived and loved,
New words and meaning, new sounds and dance,
Absorbed keenly into flesh and bone and blood,
Growing doubt free in the endless rise of man.
They lived and loved,
Their union sanctified anew, in time-worn tribal traditions,
Walking into their future together, weaving new familiar stories,
Joyous love giving painful birth to new generation.
They lived and loved,
Feeling the full numbing force of daily chore,
Raising, loving intimately, chattering, laughing and cursing,
Yet terrified, in ultimately not knowing their own creation.
They lived and loved,
All the while, silent stars swarmed overhead,
Inviting passionate mystery, blesséd ancient tales,
God’s grace, breaking gently on shore-less human psyche.
© David R. Durham, All Rights Reserved.
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There Is A Story
There is a Story
There is a story,
A story of our life-time lived.
There is a story,
A story of our family’s struggles.
There is a story,
A story of our rich tribal roots.
There is a story,
A story of our ancestors’ rights of passage.
There is a story,
That pre-dates our time on planet Earth.
There is a story,
Which comes even from before time and space appeared.
There is a story,
When we were young and powerful beings, creators of worlds.
There is a story,
Before we invented in innocence, these games of life and death.
This is your story.
© David R. Durham, All Rights Reserved.
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Lay Down
Lay Down
Lay down; lay down my sleepy head,
As I lay down in this rag-tag field of reclusive dreams,
How long?
How long before this day is just a distant playful memory?
Lay down; lay down my grateful true and tested love,
As I unfold in this endless rolling breath of vibrant life,
How many?
How many lifetimes before Earth is just a ripple under shimmering stars?
© David R. Durham, All Rights Reserved.
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Down By The River
Down By The River
Down by the river an old man sang,
His voice so full of life, one with tide.
He whistled ancient tunes, calling
His soul back home, borne on wind and stars.Down by the river, old women sang,
Their voices full of family love.
They hummed ancient lullabies, soft
And gentle, guiding their children home.
© David R. Durham, All Rights Reserved.
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The Beast
The Beast
The
Beast sighs,
Menacing deep snarl.
Fear ripples through sinewed
Taught jaw and clenched teeth.
Inhibited anger emerges, twists, cries out,
Out of reason’s insane shadow.
See, whispers the Beast,
No more illusions.
All is
God.
© David R. Durham, All Rights Reserved.
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- Technical details on the photo are on the Photo Information page.
- More thoughts on this poem are on my FaceBook Page.
Your Eyes
Your Eyes
Momentary stolen glances,
Mythic tales in your eyes;
So powerful, so refined.Yearning to reach you,
Passion’s dancing flame;
So powerful, so sublime.Your gaze turns inward,
Deep run your memories;
So powerful, so benign.In our eternal meeting,
Our souls united again;
So powerful, so divine.
© David R. Durham, All Rights Reserved.
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Innocence
Innocence
Innocent is love’s first bloom,
Ignorant of worldly rules,
Flowing heart, fleeting, carefree!
© David R. Durham, All Rights Reserved.
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Sacred Internment
Sacred Internment
Whom do we bury?
Under these daisy scattered fields,
A friend, a loved one, an acquaintance so slim.What do we bury?
Under these raven scattered skies,
A smile, a birthday party, a look so grim.Why do we bury?
Under these grief scattered feelings,
A doubt, an innocent secret, a lost tearful sin.When do we bury?
Under these fear scattered lives,
A dream, a longing for love, a hope so dim.
© David R. Durham, All Rights Reserved.
- Photographs from this blog are for sale here: PHOTO PRINT SALE
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- Technical details on the photo are on the Photo Information page.
- More information on the poem are on my Facebook page.
The Poet Photographer 