Stratus Brush Strokes

Jump, hop, skip,

Out the door

And burst into

Bouts of converging

Dancing breath

While witnessing dew

Strewn spider webs

My fingertips withdraw

From the chill

Spirals of swirls

Seek shelter in body

Warmed layers

The sun kisses

Newborn pink into

Stratus brush strokes

And my vision is graced with

Beauty that goes beyond word

And definition

Our language,

So limited, so binding

We struggle

To describe

Label

Gauge

Unable to accept that this

Is the way of things

Since Babel fell

Our tongue perfectly tied

Because some things

Are better experienced

Then spoken of

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

I have the words to share my feelings...but not the inclination. He who wears his heart on his sleeve will find that when the sleeve gets torn, the heart is bound to be. Tender hearts get trampled under the steel toed boots of the masses. Shall I cease to be tender then? No. But niether will I cast pearls before swine or give diamonds to monkeys...he who does so is a two-fold fool...he opens the doors of his soul to demons and madmen; seeking only to destroy. Discretion will keep thee says the good book and a great philosopher once called discretion, "the better part of valor". So perhaps not all things...no matter how beautiful (or perhaps because they ARE so beautiful) should be shared. It can be like a newly married man sharing the intimacies of the honeymoon bed with his friends...it can take a thing of hallowed beauty and turn it to a liscentious piece of filth. So no...words are NOT for all things nor able to express all things but we as writers and poets must settle in our own hearts that which we wish to share and that which we hold too sacred for words. I loved this wise and thought provoking write.

[Ed Hart]

oh how wonderful; here, let me hug you warm for about half an hour, or so

[Bud]

When considered, few of life's true gifts are given words by which to describe the experience we feel within. Most things in life resonate within us on a very spiritual level, and in that we find the short comings and failing of words. But somehow we do manage to paint a basic mutual painting of understanding in our minds to communicate our experiences. The last two lines of this piece really hit it home. Wisdom rings aloud in those words...