Picture: The Disconnect by Matthew Weatherstone
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Clouds of white fire
Twisting and turning
On the blue meadow of the sky:
I am getting out of the way.
I am the source of all misery,
The same I that cannot see
Through the smoke and mirrors
Of its masters,
That is to say,
Its own beliefs, rules and regulations;
That is to say,
Outdated props, unsuitable
For the savage beauty of Life.
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Tall nettles wave hullo!
By the bubbling brook;
A gentle bower of green
Offers sanctuary to the pilgrims,
While all around fuzzy rains
Refresh sheep and cow and hen.
Harmony is all there is
When I find the courage
To disappear and let Life play,
Getting out of the way.
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Herons
Sunshower 