Arielle Washington

Arielle Washington Poems

(The bird, a spokesman of nature and its inhabitants, for the time being)
Nature. I understand it, why the birds, who exist of this earth as different varieties, nonetheless, sing in the morning. How else would we know why birds make the beautiful noises that they do and really know the reason for it?
When they sing, it’s when they see the world get brighter, and to them, light is good. Light is beautiful. People may have their own versions of what light is to soothe their mind. Whereas, birds, they literally see light and they sing. The noises they make are noises you’ll rarely ever hear them make at any other time of the day. It is only at rise, at sun rise, when they sing that beautiful note they’ve been holding back to sing all day. And their noises, if you pay close enough attention, are so very beautiful. You hear a variety of noises because all of these varieties of birds feel the need to sing this way at their best, at this particular time, all at once. Even the night owl makes his noise frequently and loudly at this time of the day with the others because of the sunrise. The sun, the light, the indicator of new beginnings, to some, the actual visual change we are all able to see at once which only happens one time of the day. If you’re fortunate, not only will it just be a sunrise to you or the birds, but it will also be an elegant sight of colors and how they change—having you really trace back the genesis of color, and as you all should know, it was because of sight. Sight, who saw the colors in the natural day. The colors that changed in the sky as the sun rose. The sky that gave way to the color of the ocean and the schemes of the grass and the trees. The light. The sunrise. The brightness that the insects gravitate towards, the plants and trees turn to smile to, the sun, the source of energy, The light. The night is fun, you can play in it, venture through its darkness and mystery, think through it- with true acceptance of the night and of the day.
But that sun, that sunrise, that brightness coming through—you can F E E L it. F e e l what makes you feel good, that brings light into your soul- that is the fire that warms your bones. Nature, who knows that the sun is good, in which provides light to see where it can find food and water, the aid, the light to their natural senses. The helper, the warmer, the true bringer of notes—to begin to make the birds sing. To make the rest of the world wake. The noises they make to wake the rest of the world. The noises the world hears as it gently transfers itself from a rest stage, to a wake stage, to allow the mind to be able to move its body.
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The Best Poem Of Arielle Washington

The Ballad Of Sunrise/Why The Birds Sing

(The bird, a spokesman of nature and its inhabitants, for the time being)
Nature. I understand it, why the birds, who exist of this earth as different varieties, nonetheless, sing in the morning. How else would we know why birds make the beautiful noises that they do and really know the reason for it?
When they sing, it’s when they see the world get brighter, and to them, light is good. Light is beautiful. People may have their own versions of what light is to soothe their mind. Whereas, birds, they literally see light and they sing. The noises they make are noises you’ll rarely ever hear them make at any other time of the day. It is only at rise, at sun rise, when they sing that beautiful note they’ve been holding back to sing all day. And their noises, if you pay close enough attention, are so very beautiful. You hear a variety of noises because all of these varieties of birds feel the need to sing this way at their best, at this particular time, all at once. Even the night owl makes his noise frequently and loudly at this time of the day with the others because of the sunrise. The sun, the light, the indicator of new beginnings, to some, the actual visual change we are all able to see at once which only happens one time of the day. If you’re fortunate, not only will it just be a sunrise to you or the birds, but it will also be an elegant sight of colors and how they change—having you really trace back the genesis of color, and as you all should know, it was because of sight. Sight, who saw the colors in the natural day. The colors that changed in the sky as the sun rose. The sky that gave way to the color of the ocean and the schemes of the grass and the trees. The light. The sunrise. The brightness that the insects gravitate towards, the plants and trees turn to smile to, the sun, the source of energy, The light. The night is fun, you can play in it, venture through its darkness and mystery, think through it- with true acceptance of the night and of the day.
But that sun, that sunrise, that brightness coming through—you can F E E L it. F e e l what makes you feel good, that brings light into your soul- that is the fire that warms your bones. Nature, who knows that the sun is good, in which provides light to see where it can find food and water, the aid, the light to their natural senses. The helper, the warmer, the true bringer of notes—to begin to make the birds sing. To make the rest of the world wake. The noises they make to wake the rest of the world. The noises the world hears as it gently transfers itself from a rest stage, to a wake stage, to allow the mind to be able to move its body.
Sun, we need you. The sun that is constant and whom always has been and whom always will be. The sun that factually promotes growth. The sunrise, who is a reminder to the birds that life is beautiful and worth living while at the same time - sets the mood up for them to be able to straightforwardly transfer their energy to the other birds, with less difficulty as it would be to transfer their energy at any other time of the day. The sunrise, that is the indicator that it’s the most peaceful time for the birds to transfer their energy and sing about it so delightfully as they’re doing it; because normally around that time, humans are asleep and their minds are put in a state of rest that mediates their body. As the mind controls the body—the body is nothing without it. The birds sense this mostly-mutual rest, and that is when they are able to be at themselves, and transfer energy and gracefully sing their songs. Their lovely songs that typically no one can hear or pay attention to at any other time of the day. Sound, a beautiful thing. With a probability that one would think the birds to be selfish for truly allowing themselves to shine only when humans are asleep. Some would only say that and would never truly come to a rational reason as to why they would call the birds selfish, because? Because, they can never fully understand the bird, and they would never because it is sadly known that that is merely how the world is. And the birds know this; therefore, the birds around us that we hear are only at their best- at sunrise- when our energy is mostly at a coast… All at once. When the sun peaks over reminds them of this, whom indicates growth, whom sets it up for the birds to transfer their peaceful energy all at once at the easiest time for them in the day, for them to show off their natural beautiful noises, that one can never ever emulate. To give their best, take the rest; give it to let it be heard just as you hear them when the sun rises.
The Native Americans (who thanks Gaia for her herbs) understood this. They were the closest to nature and animals as we will ever be. That is why Native Americans were so peaceful and thought the way that they did. They actually anticipated sunrise, the sound of the birds, that let them know all that was in the world was good. Why? Because their birds sang. Native Americans had to rest. Do not doubt that. They were human, fallible, that’s a given. But what was so special about them was that they knew that no matter what they spoke about with their brother’s or no matter what they agreed upon, no matter what they openly discussed and agreed on, that there was always going to be someone—even if that someone was not in their tribe, who was not going to be in agreement with all the rest. Though they were the only ones to have the most hope, above all. So of course, unselfishly to their body, they would give it rest. Unselfishly to the birds, they would give the birds their moment of clarity for them, for them. AS the sun would rise, as the humans would rise to the sound of the birds. The birds, who gave all a reminder of peace, of agreement with the rest of its kind. All Native Americans knew this; they would anticipate waking with the sunrise. The emitting of goodness that would come from it out of its total simplicity that one with a too complex of a brain could never even fathom. There is no one. Let you not think that there is one of a too complex brain out there. Let you single no one out to have to wonder about. No God to be formed, or devil to even be thought of. For it is all brought here the same and taken away just as the same, through different and same ways all at once, through being born, and through death. Subconsciously, we all know of this truth and this true peace. But out of the need for control, something would block out this bliss, inevitably, always. Many go by not noticing the way the sunrises or the way the birds sings... and, don’t blame them. For life, as it is is life.
If you’re lucky enough, you will truly be able to see the sun, that simple ball of gas give its way to brightness over the earth for all to see. The noises of the world through our not forgotten body allows us to hear, whom gives us many different senses, whom gives us the key to a knowledge of energy—that can be transferred, that is constant, that can move all ways through many forms.
Who are we to judge a man for his wonderment of the bird’s song and the unveiling appearance of the world’s bright face? For, when is the last time YOU wondered WHY the birds sing? Let no soul be troubled out of this, for you can naturally produce your own beautiful noises. Know that you are just as capable as the birds with their little-to-no effort to create such sound. Music is better than you think, you’ll SEE. Not all people are musicians, but they very well could be. Watch the sun rise, and you’ll know for sure. Some have some things in common more than they think—fortuitously for us, we all have varieties of ways we sing and how we do it. Sing, singing, can be more than what is heard, as you should already know by now, right? –Write- it to me, baby, -cook- me up something good to hear. Give me a little peace of it and I’ll give you a little peace of what I can sing… Under the sun, that has always smiled down upon us. And do it now while you can and as you are at this point in time.
Now can you see why I can give a ballad of the sunrise, and now sunset, before I can even begin?

Arielle Washington Comments

I don’t know who I am 22 April 2019

Thank you for this You’ll never understand how this helps me on my sour days.

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An admirer 20 November 2018

You should write more.

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An admirer 20 November 2018

You should write more

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