Original Poetry about anything and everything.
Through tempest spurned
And fury turned
On a meadow swathed in white.
Lightning rods attracting
The wrath of heaven acting
Shot forth onto dry grass.
Kindlings always destined
To burn up, never questioned
No dreams of an unscorched future.
To smoulder away
Paving the way
For those that will burn brighter.
– Vagabond Prophet
Silent as a shadow
Creeping through a meadow
Vivid pinks
Lush greens.
Scattering seeds into the sky
Throwing way up high,
Sowing among the heavens
That fertile garden soil.
Things planted here
Don’t ever climb near
If I plant some hope
High up above
Will it dangle down?
A rescue line tossed by wind
Hanging at the end of everything.
– Vagabond Prophet
Vagabond Prophet 