6 a.m.

Spring grass on silent graves

A circle with no beginning, no end

Nameless, faceless multitudes

Leaves on the tree of life

They fall, we grow, we fall, they grow

The crickets tune up their violins

And weave a carpet of sound to walk on

Branches sway and move to the slow rhythm of morn’

Syncopated by far away sounds of a mechanized life

Reviews

[Ruth]

A beautiful time of morning to witness nature's true essence I think...the visuals within this poem are beautifully woven Laz...it really is a wonderfully, vivid piece to absorb :)

[Kelly Scheppers]

I find 6 a.m. the best time of the day. My cats really appreciate the early feeding, and the coffee goes down as smooth as ever. I love your opening line..."the spring grass on silent graves." The line about the leaves on the tree of life was quite poignant, also...the analogy there was most impressive in the manner of which it was expressed. Much enjoyed, Laz.

[Delmar Cooper]

Simple words are the best words to capture the large complex notions and ideas that live in the minds of poets and ... and what? scientists, beekeepers, dreamers. I don't know, but I do know you poet have netted a leviathan of a poem in this simple snare. As simple a an ouroboros feeding upon itself. The circle, fall, grow, fall, grow... marvelous stuff. Even complete with the musical score of clanking humanity in the background. Well damn!

[Lorry]

I am now wondering if the grass, leaves and trees are even aware of our nuisance to them and the planet in general.
Perhaps we are seen as a virus ourselves. (how very dare they!)
Your words do capture that early am pondering, just as the day is stretching and getting out of bed.
Now you've got me listening for crickets! Only another 18 hours to wait! 😊