#5 healing poetry; where the beech leaves sing

The beech leaves sing,
In bright colours.
They remind me of
flushed cheeks, and less SFW
skin colouring, that might make
someone blush,
were I to tell you,
exactly what I was thinking of…

The sky repeats the sentiment,
where the beech leaves sing,
in colours that make
our skin light up.
Where the beech leaves sing,
There’s a light diffusion,
That causes a wondrous confusion,
of the true colour of our skin…

The world could use more of that.

There’s a brightness to the world,
in Autumn, and though I know why they call it Fall,
I can’t help but think,
That angel’s wings, would fly farther
now, than fall.
Though the ground must be soft,
With the sounds of the beech leaves,
rustling in descent, leaving colour where our souls have spent
long summers, and cold winters,
hanging from curled branches
that laugh at our expense when we fall into heaps
laughing…

Where the beech leaves sing,
They leave colour instead of sheet-notes,
paper would only demote,
their song.

I think so – but maybe you disagree…

There’s a whisper in the sunset,
And a melody in sunrise,
there’s dark coffee roasting,
and seagulls cry —
filling this near-the-sea-air
with barely there
moments of serendipity.

Maybe it’s in these moments,
where I find healing poetry,
When the world is rustling awake,
Aglow with colour and sound,
Movement, light and life…

In this place —
Where the beech leaves sing.


(P.S. This title is partially inspired by the book, Where the Crawdad’s Sing, which I would highly recommend reading for some of the most beautiful writing I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading.)

Published by LughLana

Hey there. My name is Ash. Whenever I feel lost or confused, I write. This blog is a project in releasing the poetry I would have kept locked up inside, otherwise. It's pronounced 'LOU-lah-NA.' Enjoy your visit!

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