the Sighing of pedals

My Art 052

I grow my flowers lovingly

 I  touch, their pedals sigh

from knowing of their task in life

–delight and mystify.

The rose, it’s thorns protective, pierce

a skin, naive of threat

but once a droplet, red, descends

the memory’s inset

As the milkweed draws the monarchs

quite stupefied am I

to learn a universe as this

creates to gratify.

 

 

Early artwork by CD-W (I guess because of its simplicity, it’s still one of my favorites)

 

 

Praise for the Mountain

If I were a cow

I would roam beneath a mountain

and drink from a cool stream.

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If I were an Arrowleaf flower

I would grow on a mountain hillside

and smile proudly at the hikers passing by.

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If I were the remains of an old mining cable

I would stare at the mountains

and remember a time

when miners depended on my strength

to transport their coal.

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If I were a wooden bridge

I would keep walkers safe as they crossed

and as they stopped in my middle

to admire the the mountain stream view

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And if I were a mountain

I would look to the clouds and smile.

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