A word sayer’s silent prayer

May the dust in the wind 

carry my soul, unspoken 

Beyond earthly realms 

Beyond distant horizons

The weight of unspoken

words released unsaid

Solacing the ether wind

Sown about the heaven’s 

fallow stardust 

Where the gravity 

of muted words 

rises up freely 

like dandelion wishes;

blown away,

cast out from silenced 

wish infested lips

To thrive 

and bare fruit 

To strive against

ill fated darkness

yet behold
a bestowed courage 

to accept life's

unplanned reapings

Plentifully bestrewn 

love deep as heart 

of soul's marrow,

uplifted far beyond 

the rusty garden gate;

Deep beyond 

constrained 

understanding

To a place that 

knows not 

enslaving bounds

A place between 

the silence 

and the peace

a nascent awakening dawn ---

for those that gave ♥..., thank you for the given...

Harlon Rivers ... a simple word sayer

Note to Self:  Understand that everything is not meant to be understood.

You can be more than people say you are ―

Live, let go and don’t worry about what you can’t change---

i never had visions of grandeur of being a poet

    so befalls the destiny of a simple word sayer- - -

circle complete

bear hugs to those who care/cared (((((((((((♥)))))))))))))

...all we are is dust in the wind - - -

Come September ,..when the leaves come falling down

The fleeing clouds have cleansed the tawny earthen meadows
Migrating sun doth steal away waning light of summer’s glee
High atop fir boughs bow in whispered homage
To the sapience the coloured leaves hath gleaned

The sweet scent of auburn brindled pinecone clusters
Ooze of glistening fruity-resinous pitch
Sticky figured squirrels chatter while they gather,
Stashing away a survival cache of spinners and acorns
For another moment in sleepy winter tide dreams

A swirling eddy of spiraling leaves whirl beneath the tall timber
Fluttering gracefully with a gravity only falling leaves behold
Enchanting like the evanescent timbre poignant piano notes decay
Falling silent as summer Jasmine’s fragrant final bloom

 Dandelion wishes soaring higher
To kiss the fleeting winged skies
Lazily adrift up and over Cascade Mountain Crest
Fuzzy treetop flyers ascending beyond
The golden harvest moon’s blossom ,…

To wish upon a shooting star
Serendipity sown about whimsically in the wind
For to reap the will of heart’s desires

A troop of Chickadees clinging like tiny acrobats
Foraging on ripened ginger hued fir-cone seeds
Waving goodbye to the deciduous cadence
Softly wafting with a pungent Lavender potion scented breeze

There is a secret place where memories hide deeply alive
Amongst the wild wood and impending leafless trees
Where Autumn coloured leaves whisper in the gentle breeze ,…

                 “I would do it all over again”

Come September ,..when the leaves come falling down

© Harlon Rivers ... September 15th, 2016

Sometimes life takes us away to places and difficult times of misunderstanding… causing side effects beyond our control that can knock us off the grid. I’m only human -- Creative writing has been a bittersweet catharsis since early adolescence, often purging a misunderstood life into music and poetry.

A lonely bird without a song

... a moment changes everything 

A lonely bird without a song

He squeezed his voice out of the throat
an old Dreadnought guitar
He bared his soul to anyone
who would listen to his psalms;
purging the torn an anxious silence within,
surrendering an unspoken heart in a song

Some days you feel
like you live too long
Watching the recurrent tides within
recede and grow low
This life, such an unplanned journey,
given to lose what’s been lost once more

How many times
must a heart be broken?
To realize a heart heavy
won’t stop beating strong
Steal away the broken inside these flesh forsaken walls;
breathe one’s last bated breath in the peace of a song

Sometimes life falls
waaayyyy short of expectations
Though passing time
may assuage evanescent dreams,
there is a stillness that floods the moment
awakening the  motherless child in his soul

Fate befallen a wordless silence
in the aftermath of finally letting go
Fingertips no longer calloused
Dreadnought wood dusty gone cold
Melancholy madness echoes unrequited

A lonely bird without a song

Harlon Rivers ... September 2016

a moment changes everything

Peace...Rivers

a "Diary of the Falling Dominoes" chapter
linked here
http://melancholyrivers.blogspot.com

I may never fly free ... garnering wild feathers

photo by harlon rivers

I may never fly free ...

~ garnering wild feathers ~

there is something about the way
the spirit of unleashed wild feathers
dance across the fields of summer breeze


it's as if they transcend from the heavens like a messenger;
we can only touch their unrestrained upliftment dreamfully,
as they bridge the sky, the sea and trees


the natural colours of creation:
each, infinite masterpieces of flight and freedom,
the feral essence within otherworldly design


a soothing texture well beyond
the confines of bared human flesh
inspired by uplifting wings of love and light


for it is the dream of passage to other dimensions,
where hope floats upon cockaded dreams,
where the spirit of joy and lightness take flight


knowing how hard I've tried to fly beyond these ties
that bind the weight of this shouldered earthly load
while trying to discover a portal to a higher realm of light


understanding the intimacy ... the song a spirit messenger
the meaning of every gifted wild feather gathered,
held so endearingly in the marrow of heart and soul


open palms garnering hopes' harbingers
these fleshen roots so grounded
in the bedrock of earthen gravity


I may never fly free...



© H.A. Rivers ... August 5th, 2016 ... All Rights Reserved

Meaning of Feathers

The Meaning of Feathers plays an important role in the belief system of Native American Indians. Their beliefs are based on Animism which embodies the spiritual idea that all natural things within the universe, including birds, have souls or spirits. Animists believe that souls or spirits exist, not only in humans, but also in birds, their feathers and in animals, plants, rocks and natural phenomena. The doctrine of animism is that everything is alive, and possesses an inherent virtue, power and wisdom.

Listen To The Wind, It Talks
                   Listen To the Silence, It Speaks
                   Listen to Your Heart , It Knows

Native American Proverb

#gravity #freedom #life #hope #nature #reality #thoughts #birds #bridge #release

These Roguish Winter Winds

sketch by John Muir

These Roguish Winter Winds

bow the unsheltered pines

embodying an arc of a diver

,... gracefully freefalling

through a shapeless portal

with the gravity

of undulating shards of rain

pelting the earthen

forest floor




Leafless wooden scaffolds shiver

with an arrhythmic sway,

perpetually reshaping the moment,

evoking a kind of

chaotic symmetry




Forces of nature rashly unwinding

the essence of hibernating earth

uprising through their roots' grasp

from deep within

the marrow of her

bedrock




Conjuring a spellbinding

primordial unity

that cannot be extinguished

by the unpredictable persuasion

that flourishes

in winter darkness



harlon rivers © January 17th,  2016

Bald Eagle's Soaring Flight

O’ how sacred the splendor

nature's illuminating halo

upraise a spirit yearning to fly

wetted wild feathers blown dry

                                 ... by a higher circle of light

A Bald Eagle's soaring circles

these revered grounds just above

evergreen tree top apex

                                 …Majestic’s sentinels leaning south, 

 

solacing graceful wings

draft on uplifting currents

a vision of grandeur,

wafting round and round,

searching for something or someone

                                 …a lonely soul left behind on earthen ground

then like the drifting sky

follows a gypsy gust a wind

only upraised soul remnants ascend,

in the wake remains

a hallowed edifying condolence

soothing the womb of a soul

                                 ...in the dearth of all warmth of solace

weep not for the flight

of passing memories;

descending tears of many colors

mercifully bequeathed


                                 ...what's gone is lost forever,

                                    what's found is yours to keep ~


harlon rivers ...January 28th, 2016

Full Circles

lethargic croaks astir in the awakening chill

erratically calling out into daybreak hues
                 a primeval appeal -

                               cold-blooded wanderlust
nudges the senses in drowsy winter still

 
the subtly startling echoes -
                 a thunder clap’s rousing appeal;
                               the lightning bolts understood voice
                               on a distant mountain foothill

shapeless silence has no partitions
nor compass lines to navigate across
fragile boundaries do fall
                 where full circle's refrain;
                               flow the traces within the ashes
                               what life was before it all changed
a familiar voice

in the distance beckons
stirring memories of a fragile heart’s fading psalm
knowing I have passed on down,
circled back full this well-trodden road,

 
                               still searching through
                               the sounds of silence
                                                        once more...


harlon rivers © January 25, 2016