Dedicated to my Daughter, Heather.
A beautiful, strong, young woman.
My Sweet Heather.
~ Blossoming Heather ~
Tiny seed, so fragile, carried weightless through the air, Dropped in cracks and crevices, growing anywhere. Elements of nature’s wrath, new roots detach with ease, Whirling Heather o’er plateau’s, into a gentler breeze.
Floating into wild field greens, Heather nestles in, Arms reaching in rich soil, where mountain streams begin. Striving, drying, tendrils, determined to survive, Rehydrates the will to live, Heather comes alive.
Barely budding blossoms, Heather, not yet fully grown, Maturing, branching out, forming a structure of her own. Evolving into loveliness, cross mountainside she climbs, Manifesting her own beauty, Blossoming Heather defined.
I had visions of plush green fields, a cool refreshing breeze and the sounds of flowing streams..what more could one want from another's mind?
Quite serene. Thank you!
Oh Bonnie this is a glorious poem with superb imagery!
I love heather,I also love hardley heather soap, it's
a lovely scent on my hands even now as I type this comment;-)
The songs and art in this book are about our collective emergence after the pandemic and trauma of the last few years - comprised of 5 collections: World as Refuge, Where We Live, In Our Hands, Rhythms of Change and What We See & Sow.
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
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Quite serene. Thank you!
Lisa
Allen
I love heather,I also love hardley heather soap, it's
a lovely scent on my hands even now as I type this comment;-)