Only Nature’s Way

 

 

 

Title art by Nocluse. Click image to visit his studio.

 

 

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Innocence “Natural Thing”

 

 

 

 

there were no boundaries
no white picket fences
no crickets in the tall grass of the thicket
feeling pensive
the fee was inexpensive to dispense with skin and venture into unknown deed with no need for defenses
to bound with ease through grounded leaves
release them to the wild
to scale tall trees and graze pale knees
in keeping with a child
appeased to lead with mischief mild enough to glean a cheeky smile
and all the while
no boundaries perceived

 

there were no dreams
as yet undreamt
no more secrets to be kept
no more grievances undressed
no more frequencies distressed
no more reasons to regress
abreast of ceaseless plains impressed upon the chest plate of remembered brave addressed
no boundaries perceived
foreseen no reason to retreat
of mortal weaken
and decree
to taste the treason of defeat
there was cohesion to the breeze
that weaved each season in-between
to braid the day that night became
into the veins of famed belief

 

there were no limitations
to where the skies peaked
no clear indication
wherefrom the light seeped
obsidian skies dressed the height of mystique
while meridian moon coalesced with the sun bled beneath
in one breath unceasing
a hundred more heaped
upon stars of uncharted marine
ever tranquil the sea
from the angle perceived
through the tangle of trees overseen
ever thankful for bleed
of the leaves shed bequeathed
for each vein wept a seminal seed
life was ephemeral
only when deemed as a chemical romance in brief
temporal and emptied when ceased
floral bed of temporary lease

 

there were reasons
the seasons passed even when stalled
there were fortresses evenly walled
betwixt which no treason was seen to befall
for the kingdom was ceaselessly sprawled
no boundaries
no white picket fences
no attack formation planned
or inbuilt knack to be defensive
there were no true ends foreseen
no dreams undreamt
all senses weaned
dependancy on disbelief
thus deepened in perspective
there were woods
inbetween tangled trees
they were wild
they were brave
and in the way of only nature
they were free

 

 

 

 

 

Richard Charles Stevens

 

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

 

 

 

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