What I See

I see a sky; stained with cerulean paint,
Naturally pure and untouched; exposed
Yet of imperious birth and colors
Ages have graced by; timeless
Elegance in its beauty.
What it shears,
It shears through a world green and blue.
Betrothed with pride in its limitless power.


I see the oceans; embedded with power
Waves of turblent winds and rains
Sway and tingle with temper
Hold a dignity that stands tall and lofty
Tossing back and forth
An unearthly electric power.
It is all but graves of many unknown timbers
And birth of many unknown lives.


I see the earth; spell bounded with stories.
Low and far they stubbornly stand
Under our divine sky
Within the midst of our arrogant oceans
With all, it secures eons of
Pain, tears, triumph, and joy.
Rooted in its implacable core
Live creatures it holds dear.


I see people; covered with kinship
Perhaps it begins with loyalties
And perhaps it ends with betrayals.
Each poem sings a story of a story
Many that veil too much emotions.
Feelings that touch to the hearts
Thoughts that reach the inner minds.
Songs are sung before open fires.


I see a girl; writing a story.
Holding her writings dear
She strokes a harp that sings stories
Of what she sees.
I see the sky, she plunges her hands
I see the oceans, she clicks her fingers
I see the lands, a voice echoes
I see myself stroking this poem alive.