Wind Dance

5 Comments

Tags:
  • Nature
    • ,
  • Inspirational

    Wind Dance

     Raptors soar through crisp autumn skies
    Dancers with wings
    Held high above jagged cliffs
    Mighty wings held taut and unyielding
    Soaring over whimsical towers
    Circling in smooth crossing spirals
    Like curling ribbons entangled in the wind
    Floating through rivers in the sky

    Fresh northern breeze carries raptors up river
    Gliding with ease, diving over obscure rapids
    Silver bubbles tossed round in a simmering kettle
    Hidden behind veils of pale frothy fleece
    Sovereign hunters migrate with ease
    Wind dancers rehearse to ancient music
    And silent songs of the heart

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    bloomingsun commented on Wind Dance

    12-11-2009

    Love the last two lines, what a great summary! This is lovely and sets the imagination whirling. Nicely done.
    Reply to Comment

    TBA commented on Wind Dance

    10-18-2009

    Your style lovely and your painting vivid. One can see through their own eye the beauty of the moment. The gentle moments and the powerful freedom and joy of the creature. My picture includes clear skies, brisk breezes, mountains afire with oranges and reds. I am alone with the dancers as they celebrate. One small nit- taught should be taut.
    Reply to Comment

    lucky62 commented on Wind Dance

    10-18-2009

    this is interesting loved the flow and the rhythm the birds of prey eying you from aloft. Nice........
    Reply to Comment

    jamalajason2006 commented on Wind Dance

    10-18-2009

    I REALLY LIKE THIS ONE I FELT LIKE I WAS SITTING ON THE ROCKS OF THE CREEK LOOKING UP AND WATICHING HIM
    Reply to Comment

    bforibus commented on Wind Dance

    10-17-2009

    this is a very surreal poem. its visuals are fantastic. i would love to know the deeper meaning of it. great job on it. with such a beautiful topic at place i wish the words danced as well with a lil rhyming scheme
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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