Tag: nature

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The Daydreamer’s Gift

Today I sat on the bank of a cool forest stream,
And under lush green tree ferns, I began to dream,
That I lived in this forest wild and free,
And my home was the trunk of an ancient tree,
I spent the day searching the forest far and wide,
Returning home that night to comfortably hide,
And admire the jewelled treasures I’d discovered,
Then, the next morning when fully recovered,
I followed the stream right up to the mountain,
Where from its rocky edge a waterfall fountained,
After drinking its waters and healing my soul,
I read magical words from an old paper scroll,
I thanked the mountain for its bountiful gift,
Before sitting quietly to let my mind drift,
To get home I imagined that I’d shrunk down so small,
That I could float on a leaf, powered by the waterfall,
I was delivered home safe, gentle and true,
With a leaf for a boat and mountain stream as my crew,
When I opened my eyes to the real world once more,
I smiled seeing tiny footprints, and a leaf on the shore.
Forests have a special magic, and as this daydreamer knows best,
They’re a good place to put imagination to the test,
So, lock up my daydream in your mind like a jewel,
And may your trees grow tall, and your waters run cool.

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The Wheel of the Year

Hope shines into the heart of new days,
I’ll heal in nature, clearing both mind and airways,
With eyes closed I can see the illuminated leaves,
In our own sunlit garden, on its magical trees,
With the passing of Beltane, happier days seem ahead,
Far from Queen Winter, the monarch of the dead,
Warmth brings connection, and opportunity to grow,
It’s a time to return to the me that I used to know,
I must shake the bitterness that Yule has put in me,
And start living better, the way that I should be.
There’s a lot of work to do on my body and my mind,
I’ve abused both, so it’s time to heal, repair and unwind,
As I’ve grown older there’s one thing that is clear,
All things can change, except the turning wheel of the year.

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Ode to Springtime

I’m thankful for the springtime,

And how it brings our garden to life,

The morning smell of eucalyptus trees,

Its dewy mornings and its warmer nights,

Afternoon sun showers on freshly cut lawns,

The colour of the flowers makes me love it even more,

The songs of busy insects and the brightly coloured birds,

The sounds of springtime in the country are the best I’ve ever heard.

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Below the Queen Tree

I cross my front garden to my favourite tree and sit down,

She has a thick leaning trunk and a beautiful green crown,

Soft grass at her base, welcomes my feet like an old friend,

The queen tree is the kind, a younger me would often ascend,

I’d climb to the top and feel the sun on my smiling face,

Above the world in her castle, my secret green hiding place,

Times have changed, and now I must admire her from below,

My bare feet in the grass, and the greying face of an old fellow.

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Path of the anxious mind

Forest walking,
Self talking,
Rain falling,
Birds calling,
Breath taking,
Hands shaking,
Alone feeling,
Strength stealing,
Anxious being,
Death seeing,
Tree crashing,
Claws slashing,
Teeth biting,
Beast fighting,
Blood dripping,
Mind tripping,
I’m dying,
Anxiety lying!

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Forest of the Mountain King

A great mountain looms over these antique lands,
Mysterious and proud the stone giant stands,
Its snow-capped peaks have a perilous beauty,
Climbing to the summit is an impossible duty,
Behind its back is an endless ocean scene,
And in its shadow are lands pastoral and green,
In its ancient forest, the air is heavy and old,
Fern trees and giant mushrooms grow uncontrolled,
It’s said that trees often walk the forest floor,
Gathering in sacred spaces to discuss forest law,
If you stay hidden you may hear them creeping around,
But if they find you, you’ll be crushed into the ground,
Few animals dare to venture into this forgotten place,
And any men who enter vanish without a trace,
So, choose wisely before you visit the forest of dreams
For the mountain is King, and his soldiers are trees.

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A Moment of Dreaming

In the distance, a crystal ship adorned with vivid white sails glistens against an azure sky,

The tranquil surface of the clear blue ocean invokes a serene feeling of comfort and home,

Soft white sand underfoot shimmers like powdered diamonds in the warm midday sun,

Closed eyes feel the radiating warmth, while a fresh ocean breeze caresses the hair,

The gentle washing of water onto the sand accompanies serenading white seabirds overhead,

The earthy scent of lush green grass and sweet wildflowers dances on the breeze,

This moment of dreaming, with its peace and serenity, is alien to the dreamer’s waken world

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Aphelion

Existing in a brilliant white light, orbiting at perihelion, bathing in the warmth of the sun’s glow,

Basking in pure bliss, this should last forever, however, the mind drifts into deep space,

Thoughts fire like lightning bolts, sparking imagination, and conjuring forgotten memory,

Doubt appears through tainted thoughts, and erodes the perfect white edges of the mind,

The memory fragments, thoughts float away, and the last bright white vision fades to black,

Unseen hands pull from deep space, the mind drifts away, far from the sun, and into aphelion,

Icy darkness freezes thought, and the only light left is a glimmer of stars through icy shards.

 This poem was the foundation for my ambient electronic album Aphelion, which is part two of my Interstellar trilogy of albums.  I released all three albums in 2023, you can listen to the album in full on Youtube and it is also available on all music platforms.
For Reference: Aphelion, in astronomy, is the point in the orbit of a planet, comet, or other body most distant from the Sun.
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Ode to a Sweet Glade

Oh sweet glade, a hidden yet open shining place,
Surrounded by dark trees, yet within you, flowers and grace,
Silver ferns surround your soft grass, and keep your boundary in order,
Giving weary travellers beauty, the gift of rest and a pond of cool water.

Oh sweet glade, I close my eyes and can still smell your bouquet,
It was your fertile green clearing, that enticed me to stay,
With birdsongs, bright flowers, and the mushrooms you gave,
Healing my inner wounds, with warm comfort, my life you did save.

For I was not planning on leaving the forest that day,
I was to hang from roped branch, and in the cool winds I’d sway,
A corpse, was the gift I intended to leave for the creatures and earth,
To feed the fertile forest floor, the body of a man with no worth.

Oh sweet glade, you showed me something worth living for,
You gave me light and hope, where my eyes saw only darkness before,
Your greeting of sunlight and soft scents, as I stumbled from the dark,
Set my life on a new path, one lived in happiness, on which I now embark.

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Gentle is the morning light

A golden morning sunlight pours through black window lace,
The world seems silent, bright and serene, nothing stirs,
Anything seems possible at this moment,
Tired eyes and mind are awakened from long slumber,
Gentle is the morning, not yet revealing the days secrets,
Several sparrows busily appear outside the window,
Their frantic chirping soon fades and silence returns,
The warm spring sun brings tree leaves to a splendid glowing green,
As the morning dew is devoured by tidy lawns and flowers,
The outside world seems renewed, any anxiety of yesterday erased.
The hiss from a passing car, cuts through silence, ending peaceful contemplation.
And as the sun rises past the window frame, this blue skied Sunday can begin.