the blossom trees know you/
as does the river/
they recognize you in the way seeds burst forth from fruit,
violently, spirited away/
by the breath of the old north wind/
they see your shadow,
in the sinewy silver fingers of the moon/
when she coaxes the waves to break,
cast themselves hard upon the shore/
the bees know you,
in the perfume of your honey,
they follow you/
to the ends of the earth,
for they know why the grass grows where your feet go/
why the daffodils turn their pale faces to your sun,
why the sky glows bluer,
the air sweeter...
YOU ARE READING
tyrants
Poetrythe kind of love i've been dreaming of 2018 - 2023 #29 in poetry, 2nd april 2023 #56 in prose, 23rd may 2019 #16 in non fiction, 6th april 2023