deci belle Posted February 11, 2010 (edited) ROOT BALL Without any style, but lots of pluck Seize the dead root— just call it luck. Filling ground zero is a nine foot hall—So Taking what's level you stand on it all Climbing past this, the flowers fall. High and dry, dead and taut Who can see what's finely wrought. Lumpy and rough, thick and stark No layers left, no piece of bark Bleakly gnarled, vaguely dark. Even and level, there's no way in The uncarved block is square and thin. Stand it on end— and no longer pretend Trust your balance there's nothing to mend The pedestal of dragons; beyond our ken. In the empty room held in space Holding the root and recalling the taste Audaciously climbing right into your arms The living thing suits you without any harm Vitality hails you, shamelessly charmed. Edited February 22, 2010 by deci belle Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
deci belle Posted February 11, 2010 (edited) thankyou Merci-vous, rain… appreciate your comment! Edited February 12, 2010 by deci belle Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
deci belle Posted February 22, 2010 Something taken from the tenth oxen of Kakuan: 10 In the world. Barefoot and naked of breast, I mingle with the people of the world. My clothes are ragged and dust-laden, and I am ever blissful. I use no magic to extend my life; Now, before me, the dead trees become alive. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
trailmaker Posted March 4, 2010 Something taken from the tenth oxen of Kakuan: 10 In the world. Barefoot and naked of breast, I mingle with the people of the world. My clothes are ragged and dust-laden, and I am ever blissful. I use no magic to extend my life; Now, before me, the dead trees become alive. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
trailmaker Posted March 4, 2010 Hello deci belle - fine sentiment nice imagery... Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
