Green Pastures

The unsung
Cannot exist without feeling
Lucidity is a rebel
That finds a voice
Something with which
We can identify
Even exhausting struggle
Finds emancipation
The freedom
Sprung up like
A well in the core
A garden tended
Deep within
A harvest of optimism
Blind art and
Heart humiliated cries
Among the ruins
A daydreaming fox
Held suddenly motionless
Baring its teeth
At the grapes of
Glory and perseverance
In the blood red sky
Weathered by the fires
The villagers who settled here
Presented pale flowers
To the ones before them
At the shore whom
Were always wading at the bottom
Of each cliff in hollowed

Accepting one another
Then place on the cloak
Of green pastures
Where if you lay us down
There is room enough
For this fabric to rest on
As a blanket for love making
And the blackbirds
Circle over with wear
Take the ring from my hand
And tie it up
In the length
Of your hair

© GÄ

Published by

Geino Äotsch

An artist & spiritual lover. Author of & - Tea Maker & Owner of - Hair & Music at