Grammar

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Hate.

Not so long ago. Not so far away.
Still here in many ways.
It serves no logical purpose.
Hate seems to be a reversion into primal patterns that becomes irrational in modern context.

This Is Not A Leaf

Transcend identity for experience.

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"Dust Honey"

"Dust Honey"
by Laren Grey Umphlett
(from The Poetic Realities, The Poetic Fantasies)

That luminous pedal stretching into day
as a mystic may know cause.
Dew suckle and glow
A journey of light bends skyward falling
and high mists may relegate with soft touch,
The equal is in the stay.
The messengers toil the stems
as certain benefactors they hum
Angels with halos of black
and cargo of gold,
The lynch pins of our heartbeats,
They are the hinges of our winds
Every soft valve and tube thankful for their mercy
A perfect plan now step trampled
the sting will swell
The love unfolds in the gold
hoisted a fine dust.
No many more than needed
No less
Carrying on as not told silently
but the hum of what is known...