Original Poetry about anything and everything.
This mother died in childbirth
In the hopes of children
That may one day fly.
Though your body
Provides good ground for roots
One day they will tear them out
And soar above us all.
What could be a better
Picture of salvation?
Casting aside bark and personal gains,
To let the next generation
Grow right through the memory of you.
– Vagabond Prophet
Vapour falls so heavily
Starting streams of its own
Leaving trails on the rock
Carving stone over time.
Nobody knows if trails
Join back up
Or branch out on their own
Without following each one
To its greatest length.
Water most immeasurable
And beyond capacity
Both of comprehension
And containment.
– Vagabond Prophet
Nooks and crags
Hard and rough to the touch,
Stories hidden deep within
Somewhere between
The rings and the sap.
Hardest foundations
For the tenderest of shoots,
Finest green needles
Homes for nomads of the forest.
Towering over all
The only witness of history
And with tightest lips
You perform interpretive dance
With your roots underground,
Accomplices in beauty
Can’t help but join the show.
– Vagabond Prophet
No secret rung
To which I’ve clung,
Concrete and brick
Mortar laid thick
Won’t hold me back
From a sky
That is mine to attack.
– Vagabond Prophet
I am no physician
But this juxtaposition
Seems to me indicative
Of malignant growth.
Not all growth is progress,
This seems particularly
Shady…
– Vagabond Prophet
Vagabond Prophet 