Sunday, May 29, 2011

Dreams Between (Sunday Scribble 269)



Dreams soar free in colors high
Waves of hope fly and glide
Far above
Rocky cold
Jagged cries
Of glacier why

Slicing low of winter’s gray
Swirling storm of icy rain
Flocks of dreams
Squeeze between
Heaven’s mirror
Of mountain’s rage

6 comments:

Liz - Old Raven said...

You depict rage rather beautifully.

Anonymous said...

This had the momentum of flapping wings carrying us off to magical places..Jae

laurie kolp said...

I love the tempo... great depth and beauty here.

withgraceandgratitude said...

The first thing I wanted to do was to climb that beautifully amazing tree at the top of your blog. I would have loved sitting there while reading your poem. And then I would have either fallen out of the tree or just sprawled all over it thinking of the way you captured the powerful imagery of nature. Lovely! And thanks for visiting my post too.

sharplittlepencil said...

Love this take on the flock, and once again, the color and texture of your work is excellent. You have a knack for writing about nature, Henry. Amy

Dee Martin said...

good thing those dreams have strong wings to keep them aloft!!

I'm Just a Man (Recording Experiment ... I can't sing)

I am in the mood to change my tree to a cubic version.