Mountains are distinct from flowers 

                                                   scaling heights beyond compare

 

Flowers are distinct from mountains 

                                                     filling fragrances in the air

Mountains are distinct from flowers 

                                                       unchanged by wind or rain

Flowers wilt, but renew colours, 

                                                      weeks after they fade

Both sparkle myriad colours, 

                                                    green, brown, yellow, pink, white

Together they brighten the landscape 

                                                      enriched by Nature’s light

Be still 

as the rock

 over which rivers flow

Be still 

as the mountain 

over which storms blow

Bend with breeze 

Like trees swaying 

without moving

Remain rooted 

on solid earth 

get nourished to grow.

Two Copperpod trees 

planted the same day 

at the same hour 

fifty feet apart

One got fertile soil 

quickly grew tall

sprouting yellow flowers

the other had a rough start

Rocks blocked roots 

mice nibbled shoots 

it grew three feet 

while twin reached ten 

black ants its only friend

Tall twin dropped shadow 

shielding sibling from sun 

shed flowers to soften soil

Bees made blossoms bloom 

then twin stretched for the sky

Soon flowers on both trees twirled 

dancing to birdsong and breeze

Shadows united on ground 

carpeting it yellow-ochre brown 

beneath a golden crowning canopy

Now they live at separate heights

shadows and crowns blending

That one grew fast, the other caught up 

is a history worth forgetting.

Can you design a cloud?

Their shapes go as the wind blows 

morphing 

from lion to leaf, 

embryo to elephant, 

dinosaur to dormouse

sometimes bulbous blobs 

split by blue lagoons

sometimes shimmering sheets in varied hues

changing white to grey, to black and back

like humans

some male, 

some female,

some in-between

At the whim of the wind

Or the decree of the moon.

Heavy day yawns

after grotty night

yesterday’s ghosts hover

 strangling light

into an abyss of slippery sides

with no landing in sight