The dark roots…

July 28, 2015

sink deep into the earth searching, always searching for more. Above, its leaves blow their gilded song of laughter across the field where joy rings true.

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The Stemming

Come here, follow me see  how I thrive

The winds blow, the storms rage

Yet upwards I rise

My body is strong my branches are stout

The mysteries my secrets will ne’er be found out

The small seedling fights for life of its own

Then steady, steady it breaks through the dawn

Live on little acorn live on planted deep

For whatever you sow you shall surely reap

Young sapling stands near this great mighty tree

Ever it does wax and wane to be free

The years come and go the strength is passed on

The blackness of root now deeper has gone

Blow winds, blow rains

The storms pass thee by

Its roots are laid safe now

In rich soil of lies

Though bitter or gladness it all comes to sigh

Sooner or later all things they will die

The branches are weak

Roots laid open bare

Storms toss thee and turn thee

At last

Now despair

The power you held is no longer bequeathed

Your mighty strength spent

It lies in a heap

Then glorious, Now silent

Truth breaks the spell

Now ashes to ashes

The fire will not quell

copyright/ 7/28/2015, R. Webb

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Angry Writing…

July 15, 2013

Time away from the blog was spent doing visual art. Touching on the subject of angry writing for this post. Angry writing is something I do from time to time. It is a safe way to vent all my feelings of anger, disappointment, resentment, bitterness, and fear on a silent and obedient subject: paper. Venting like this saves me a lot of heartache down the road. I can call all the names I want, give all kinds of pieces of my mind without ever risking the ‘you can’t  un-ring a bell’ situation. It’s old fashioned, but it works. I am careful to write only when I’m alone and I completely destroy the evidence. The aftermath leaves me calm and able to think logically again. A spiritual cleansing of sorts, especially as I watch the tiny bits of paper swirling away or  becoming ashes. Instantaneous gratification and a feeling of freedom without hurting anyone.