24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Dent-de-lion or taraxacum
boasts a beautiful yellow flower
but watch it closely and you’ll see
it turns into its power
the yellow “teeth” begin to dry
and then they turn to fluff
a seed that flies with wind and then
they float to needy spots
to plant themselves within the dirt
and boast how quick they’ll grow
just watch and see the lion’s tooth
And soon you’ll have to mow.
vibrance.
Dandelion. The wishing star of flowers,
ripe with ballerinas standing on their toes
to touch your center. White tutus starched and
standing out to catch the wind, they break free
and sail to where wishes come true,
where their feet can land in the earth,
where they become golden flowers when they age.
What do all those wishers wish?
Wishes are hopes, and we all need hope.
Only you and the ballerinas know.
Bloom on.
A whole field of clouds
Waiting for a strong wind
So they might travel the world
Starting out as a big full cloud
Soon enough
It seems to lose the fluff
It shrinks and shrinks
Till there is no cloud anymore
I liked that last image of the close up of the flower. I had fun with this one.
Seventeen
Let me be that
I could stay up all night
Unlike now, I’m falling asleep
Good night
at every step
trust earth will rise to catch you
safely though you fall
Checklist
Tucked inside
Yesterday’s folded news.
I spy.
A kneeler
A Crossing
And watch him drive the bus.
You pay your fare
and pull the chord
And exit to the rear (which isn’t the rear as much as the side)
but only after we comes to a full stop.
Full stop.
Do you know, who’s driving the bus?
One foot follows the other
Path obscured by blowing sand
Forward, ever forward
Pushing into the unknown
Destination indiscernable
Nothing but a bearing
A compulsion to maintain momentum
Knowing stagnation leads to breakdown
So keep moving forward, ever forward
As long as this body allows.
Along the path to enlightenment,
we encounter life’s highs and lows.
Mere survival and determination become a mantra.
Acquiring the physical and mental strength
to surpass primitive understanding.
Guides tend to periodically download pieces
of a mastered blueprint into our memory.
Bound by songs of redemption,
we tend to rest but not sleep.
Through the days, months, and years with limited tears.
Resurfacing anew breath of light within our soul.
Embracing the balance of self
as the fallacies of the world unfold.
It’s not what Nostradamus said
even revelations are unheard
the world, I fear is ending near
with bullies, rapists and people smeared.
It starts with just a tiny cracking
with morals and manners lacking
scandals, sex and drugs abound
rotting each and every town.
Each flood that drowns, erodes the earth
and fires burn our homes to dirt
earthquakes, landslides kill within
and hurricanes, tornadoes always win.
With each and every shooting spree
a hurt explodes inside of me
a murder here, a kidnap there
each sin becomes too much to bear.
A man in tatters holds a sign
the end is near, the truth shall rhyme
just one more crime may be the crack
in this tired Earth’s breaking back.
-Sandra Johnson, 6/22/19