”....and so i went walking for a trial at finding my pace”,
there i go again even now as i push these covers back,
looking outside my window i feel the vibrations rolling off your face,
till in the essence of the moment i am gripped by the reality of drooling yack….
—-it’s better now since in the morning’s light of my firebird day,
i can go off into the woodlands that surround my empyrean sphere,
consistently verbed i am within this vault of heavenly disarray,
where tree peaching fore warms the dawns awakening of glee-full cheer….
—-empyrean aplomb peaching heavenly rhythms of rhyme,
where miestro’s of symbolic symphonies record the daily pitch,
and i am lost within this mime of daily controverted time,
playing the part of a soul-full spirit creating ‘wood art’ ento-niche….
—-crapulous intemperance of marketing musketeer’s,
has taken my forests for truck loads of pulp wood diet,
and gluttons of fast food wood stores walk as gawking sightseers,
till from this night-fright of last night i awaken to sounds of quite….
—-this rambulous of warning has taken effect upon my being,
and so i travel far and wide looking for wood to re-use,
while all-so knowing that the ancients of old are living forests of wellbeing,
and from their heartwood is found the good news for a recluse….
....”all is yours, take what you will, only use what you take”....
....looking to see what I can see….
....in the heart of a tree....
"....and so i slipped the bark back on and went in search of the soul of my tree, where spirits such as i ride wild, hard and free...."
-- --frank, NH, http://rusticwoodart.tumblr.com/