BUDS OF HOPE

 

 

BUDS OF HOPE

In midst of despair and sorrow
rise buds of hope for the morrow.
Still standing upright and strong
against all that can go wrong.

These are extreme times of confusion and change,
media expanding over a broader range. 
We are attacked by sounds in each direction,
leaving no time for thinking and reflection.

These flowers know what’s real,
they go by what they feel.
Away from the hustle and bustle,
they grow wild without any tussle.

A day to clear my cluttered mind is all I need,
to recharge my battery is what I should heed.
I’ll recharge in a quiet place like this,
a zest for life is what I dearly miss.

FIND ZEN

 

I want to find Zen.

I want to relax.

I sit.

Focus on the rocks.

Admire how they fit together.

How the sun shines on them.

Everything in perfect harmony.

I’m trying.

Not working.

Getting restless.

No Zen for me today.

 

THE NIGHT

FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD

 

A walk down the street.

Fragrances so sweet.

White cobblestones line the way.

Here is where I want to stay.

Away from the madding crowd.

A place where I can be proud.

This will be my home.

I don’t need a phone.

All I need is a soft bed

To lay down my weary head.

Fishermen’s cries will awake me

To begin my day by the sea.

HEAR THE WHISPERS

 

by hdunsirn:Peabody library, baltimore 9.6.14
©hannahdunsirn

 

The peace.

The quiet.

The silence.

The hush of the hallways.

The smell of books.

The taunt of knowledge.

Sit at a table.

Sit by the stacks.

Sit in the corner.

Feel the adventure.

Live the history.

Learn about life.

DUST IN THE WIND

 

I’m alone

Beneath a tree

In a garden.

No sounds

But birds chirping.

The smell of grass

in the warm air.

What is that sound?

The wind rustling the leaves.

Beautiful.

Relaxing.

Perfect.

The sun retreats.

 

Footsteps draw near.

Too dark to see who it is.

It can’t be.

I’m now dust in the wind.