a hand has drawn this scene before us,
the hand of time, the hand of nature,
the hand of wind rain erosion;
the hand of God created
or the hand of change elements
in conflict erosion,
the hand of love beauty shapes
these scenes to the mind of artist;
painter poet musician,
we all gather here to view these scenes
to make our marks of meaning,
walk across this scene swiftly,
as swiftly as clouds darken the plain,
swiftly cross gone or overcast
bestow enduring sedimentary shadows;
mountains band all horizons within these valleys,
in shadow mountains move move in,
shadow swallows land in light tricks
denial toning out colour bright spectrums
seasoned beauty nature's growth colours,
sepia mountain tones reddish-brown rich
brown pigment rocks ribs mountain flesh,
light lost inks out warm colours
lost into crevice dark shadows
creeping crumbling detail into shades
black upon grey, thus as valleys
grow deeper as plains shrink three rivers
in torrents darkened deeper, must
flow swifter pushed into shades
rushing blacker too deep to penetration see
perceive in gravel sand cavernous beds
time water rush flow current carved
out by gripping gouging flood currents
time flexing finger massaging flows,
to cities where buzz bees at work drones
materialism pampered, scurrying tiny ants
rushing creating colony cities splinter hives
to embrace or hound other aspired colonies
in trade in war in peace in scratch treaties,
reshaping their world immune to shadows,
busy rushing seconds minutes hours
into plan plain harvest tasks,
stealing days weeks years of lives
in economies growth desires,
beneath light of sun or neon ants
are busy about their tasks in shades of time;
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Amazing poem, rich in life and purpose. I have added it to mypoemlist. Well done.10++