Walking in nature’s way

nature, walking, enjoyment, wisdom

The sheer freedom of walking in nature's way confounds the mind In the world at large Free The unknown path ahead Open We love the earth We love the stars We belong to all We lose our burdens If not only For a moment Through lessons From green trees Brown dirt And granite Rocks We …


Opt for the free life

opt for the free life, freedom, open road, poetry, steven humphreys

Opt for the free life! go to where no known man goes. sit by the campfire. play a flute and strum a guitar. smoke that grandiose stogie watching the smoke plume. share a bottle of wine with no man and make a toast to god's glory. the wind will blow glowing embers in the spirit …


Thine own hair so full so dark so flowing such a friend to birds the wind the waves waterfall and Lilly pond alike I listened wisely to the silent call 'go to the mountain top'! so I walked up the jagged trail to its apex and looked out upon the immense sprawling valley below and …


communion, nature, poetry, steven humphreys

We broken spirits in final communion with the natural world in all its various forms and visibility speak to it's cold-hearted ways sun-baked persecution heartless heart it is you this great world of ours honoring no one for you have no feeling for no man as we drown in your wide open reckless foamy tall …

In that tree

in that tree, bird, nature, poetry, steven humphreys

Parting with the day the muffled ruffling of my birds in that tree soft bells ring they toll invisibly there is a herd landscape turf heaping in the hamlet stillness droning flight reigns over thee intimate harvest yellow green and red disdainful smiles all in beauty fill our heads it is animated and fleeting gritting …


hope, prayer, poetry, steven humphreys

hope grows planted tree roots span the ground shoots every year appear old growth creeps deep in autumn tired eyelids roll to slumber clasping hands bended knees eyes to sky piled up sticks dwellings high made of clay green feathered arms cool and shade      

These days

these days, birdbath, bees, poetry, nature, steven humphreys

It is hot these days and the bees are thirsty they drink from my birdbath they take their time they drink of it deeply I stand over them and watch like a friendly approving giant (haven't yet seen what the birds do when they want their bath and their drink) I fill the bath daily …