Lines Within Start
Poem
The heart
Like choirs in remembrance
The brow
An aperture to widen senses
The throat
From what utter graces
The soul
Held within the softest spot
The tree inside thee
Brings knowing to thy mind
In which to see
To hear
The murmurs that start the pattern
To hold
The afterthought
To smell
The spirit as it unfolds ambrosia
To taste
The wildest drive in motion that springs all things forward
All these things that twist and shout to pay attention
Or still thy waves in time
Enjoy the salt of living
The spice of all things carried in our flesh
The hand
Each finger a sense to touch branches
The lines of our palms form a pavilion to thee
If the hand that touches the heart and hand
Bends the flow
Would the temple doors open or close
*
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About the Creator
Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Author
Published Poet and Author. Making rainy days feel like Sundays with words.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
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Comments (7)
Awesome piece💖✨💯📝
That was really nice, Lisa! This part is my favorite: "Enjoy the salt of living The spice of all things carried in our flesh"
Love the minimalist blade-like form of this, beautiful words as well
very nice Lisa, outstanding articulation with the tree, love it 😊
I love how your love for nature and especially trees , how you used them in an inspirational message in your poems and stories 🥰🌹🌳
Whoaaa, this was phenomenal!
Such a glorious incantation of inspiration as it passes through the senses. And such a question with which to leave us. Will the touch of a single hand, be it our own or another's, silence or release the creative spirit once inspired?