Tim Miner's Musings

How lovely lilies and lilacs line any garden, lively How sweet lorikeets sing as they comb blossoms, symphony Magical dews dance on weedy paths, pickled Just how sweet and artful thy touches wert, condensing How we should act in the face of hate and misguided fear, love So, unquiet that it refuses to fit the frame, Fluid - perfectly human, Reverberant, resolute, Flooding in colours loud and merry, Unfeigned, unchanged Raging in hushed tones, yet thrives. Inconstant like desert streams, Softening, desirous Erotically erroneous, a possessed pair Fits like a dovetail, Rich, passionate That country hath no darkness nor sadness but, bright sunshines and laughter Yet hits like a thousand grits in the sand storm, their privation Heals and binds, makes dissimilar similar, joyous and unfettered By nature, by nurture, Springs irrigate the oasis.

Credits: Pixabay I met an owl Perched, mute, afoul. Her stare, my going further, no, Plume combed and chic, though cold the night; Her eyes flamed, alight Talons clung on dear wood Startled was her mood. I watched the owl, Flat-faced, homely, prowl Swooped down the bore, of its tree store; Gorged out a mole’s heart, too; Blood-bathed the trunks, though twice as big as her, yielded to The fatal duel, with feeble paw fights. The mirror says, ‘Behold, a flake!’ Sifting through scripts in the receding moonlight. Framed with geek eyeglasses, a’ fake, dreaming. Where, an owl flapped at his window, Like conjured up witches from limbo. Demurely, I looked at the owl From the swarthiness of her psyche, saw a soul inside Fiery that it frightened; deep, wise, wide, Yearning to hoot the night away Nature bid a tame messenger stay Harping clear intuitive words woven into silent chords ‘You must be one of us, easy, make no fuss.’ ...

As a pastime, GOD from His place on high watches the earth spin on its moil And goes, Waiiit! What's that maen?! Taking off His binoculars. And sees coloured wavy paths and plumes of smoke spiralling from its Rickety chimney. Oops! WHO BORE THAT!? Surprised. Sometimes He has to look harder at the blackness of that plume of smoke and wonder what's burning. Come on Earthlings, I didn't ask for a holocaust if ever, He smirks. Sometimes, He has to shout down to man, STOP! STOP IT! STOP! Who hears, who listens? Who stops? Not that man doesn't hear but will he stop? Why the ozone layer's depleting, depleted. Conserve your home man, Recycle, reuse, reinvent.

What leaves comes back; What evaporates Condenses,  Liquidifies. What's been emptied will be Filled up again. Break, fix Tear, mend What's damned, redeemed Wound, stretched Bend, stiffened, Raised. Rise. What's lost will be Restored, immediately Definitely Find your middle ground,  Hold on What's yours will Find the address to your door Open, answer that call Be indemnified, be restored Nature loves balance.