Thursday, January 26, 2012



I am swaying in the wind
Anchored to this earth
Yearning for the mirth
Of flight and fancy and feast
Yet leafless and among the least
I reach for sky, reaching through the why
Longing to breathe the incense

The colors they do speak to me
They speak of freedom and royalty
Which is where I’m told I am
I reach out to grab the wind, the hand
All the while moving in circles

Yet there is promise, yet there is hope
I find beauty in the presence
Life in the smoke
I feel the roots to the earth are strengthening
All while the promise of new green breaks through
The clouds speak of a new tomorrow
And the start of a new today

K, Duane Carter 1-26-12