apprentice5

Digging your toes into the deep depths of the gritty grains of sun-kissed sand lining the ocean's edge, you can feel them growing cooler and cooler, their warmth fading as they layer upon each other, hitting the last, hardest layer you can reach. Your hands graze the semi-rough surface, noting that though the feel of exfoliating beads is strong, there is a strong possibility that a skinned knee on the collapsing surface is probable. The grains separate, shifting from light mocha to soft peaches, spanning a kaleidoscope of tan browns and subtle whites. They collide together, forming that sun-touched color they're known for. Unlike their bott

Tears of heaven are floating down Enveloping the earth in scents of peace. Why is it when the gods above cry We feel a need to grin and praise the Lord For the rain that is healing our lands But we can’t stop and wonder why The gods are crying? Is it for the war and blood Spilling over into the soil Poisoning our food, our thoughts? Is that why? But without the wars, there is still rain There is still a weeping falling from above. Is it because we cannot live with the land As God intended us to? Or is it because No matter how hard we try We will never amount to anything That can help us grow?

Can you see me? I’m standing behind you My hand’s on your backpack Gripping the strap Following you anywhere you lead me Can you feel me? My hand’s on your shoulder I’m kneeling beside your chair Crying for you Because you’re unable to move on Can you hear me? I’m screaming for you Yelling out for you Trying to stop you You’re falling too fast for me to see Can you taste me? My lips on your mouth Never felt so perfect It’s a snapshot But you’re sleeping, not awake I know you can’t hear me I know I’m not visible But there should be something you recognize I’m ha

The grays and blacks collide With the blues and whites Creating the tears of the fallen With angels protesting every movement With Zeus fighting for everyone And God praying for a miracle So the sins are washed away And the fallen can bathe And rest and relax and admire The brilliant colors of the aftermath The violent reds and pitiful blues The greens melding with the yellows And the fighting ceases The angels leave, silent as before Zeus has thrown his last shot God’s miracle has come The Earth is reborn in a second Alive with new shades and hues Vibrant with life and breath And the fallen are forgotten