A Thousand Cranes – Volume 2 Poetry Book Sample

Artwork 070

Artwork 070

A Thousand Cranes by Ashlee Craft

Paperback

Kindle eBook

 

Cranes in the Night

 

the artist-poet

sitting on the porch steps out back

of the old Victorian house she inhabits

looking out towards the secret garden

where many magical things have happened

& the aroma of blossoming flowers

& the sound of frogs & crickets

& the smell of the cool night air

surrounding her as she looks out towards

the sky

waiting for

her one thousand paper cranes

to return to her again

 

she knows something wonderful is about to happen

 

 

Oh, the Stars

 

oh you beautiful wonderful things

dancing in the starlight, celestial & celebrated

hallowed moon in the sky million-universes circling

& swimming in the wave pool

twinkle in the sky eyes peering thru from behind a dark curtain

there just for me to look at

all of it there for me

just as it’s all there for you & everyone one else

living or lived or ever will live

 

light & air light & air

pretty thoughts flowing thru my head

in a world filled with books & music & animals

watch the fireworks alight

illuminating the silent night’s dusty corridors hidden within

the alleyways mistaken & forgotten

until suddenly being brought to light again

underscored by passages into secret gardens

unrelated to eclectic ecstasies unspoken under moonlight

in puddles reflecting the light all around us like

a million diamonds; the jewelry I’d rather wear

setting alight the flowers tucked gently into my hair

glowing in the sun nurtured by the life around me

like fireworks flying endlessly forever onwards onwards on

setting alight the hopes & dreams inside of us

oh, you wonderful things

oh, the stars

 

Turning to Face

 

I’ve run so far / I’ve ran I’ve ran / suddenly creeping / mysterious sounds in the night / like black panthers hiding in jungle trees / stars shining only in darkness / raindrops running down windowpanes / rainbow coming out in the after-rain mist / running down the soaking pavement wearing sopping tennis shoes shoes slapping against the pavement in the pouring pouring pouring rain / rain soaking my skin rain soaking my hair rushing rushing rushing onwards / covered in this cloak of rain heart pounding / I’m running back to where I should be / I’m running back towards what I left behind / it’s time to stop running away / it’s time to stop running away from it all / it’s time to face it

 

A Beautiful Morning

 

22 – Sunday – 8:29 a.m.

 

I walked along in the morning light

the wet grass bathed my feet

I looked down & saw dewdrops each harboring tiny rainbows

 

he walked along in the went sand

his feet left tiny prints behind

a mockingbird called overhead, & we turned to go home

 

I saw an earthworm on the sidewalk

struggling to cross it before the sun would soon be overbearing

I picked it up & brought it back home to my garden

 

I saw a flower trying to bloom but the soil was dry

I brought it a glass of water from inside my house

& I watched the flower grow big & strong & beautiful

 

I went back inside & ate a nice breakfast

while eating I planned what I would do that day & smiled

today was going to be a beautiful day

 

A Hundred Thousand Universes

 

don’t you know how wonderful & amazing you are?

With your shining eyes & illuminating smile

with the happy way you go thru life & the way you face it all & stand up when you need to?

with your musical laugh & your beautiful body & the way you make people feel happy too?

with the way you care about everyone & the way everyone loves you back?

with the way you look at each day as an adventure & the way you stop & smell the roses & how you make your own sunshine when you can’t find any?

can’t you see how amazing & perfect you are

you’ve got a hundred thousand tiny universe all growing & glowing inside you

a hundred thousand tiny universes

 

I Think What it Needs

 

overlying quantity hazy summer evening of holding onto ^ no more holding onto it all ^ the grasps of the dusty hand rails upon the train platform as it jumps on & on & on thru the night wishing on the odyssey of stars / multiple colors of acrylic paint & a jar full of paintbrushes & a spray bottle & cozy piles of blankets & orange checkered cases of wood handled teacups & heart-print ribbons pots of glue & a cup of green tea / snappy solitudes secreted daring & dancing frenetically in gray prison cells made of lies but can be melted & broken out of simply by asking for a candle / a decree of nestling newborn birds never-ending stories writing on leaves recording the histories in the barks of trees & in the supple rippling of riverside waves / working flawlessly to grow the American angelica trees with composted fertilizer & drops of rain collected in metal buckets # drip drop drip drop on & on & on # with their tin can hats & the questions on the table in the forest laid down before the great queen & reborn renewal / nominees of trustees tresses in the sea cabinet depositing grains of sand one by one into the black-hole basin punctuated only by the turning of the world / doves cooing & cheering in the rafters / drifters drifting on rivers on their rafts build of wooden planks / convincing someone else to do the necessary work

 

What are You Waiting For?

 

the sun is rising!

what are you waiting for?

the moon is growing over the hill!

what are you waiting for?

the stars are passing by flying by wishing stars!

what are you waiting for?

people are dreaming new dreams!

what are you waiting for?

the world is turning, the day is dawning &

night is coming to a close

what are you waiting for?

you’ve waited so long

you’ve waited & waited for things to change

or to find motivation

but still

what are you waiting for?

 

well

the time has come to

stop WAITING

& start

DOING

start

BEING

start LOVING

start

//// Living \\\\

 

Happened to Be There

 

alcoves aloof in their mysteries, jealous of secret tunnels underground where drunked sailors sing their sea-tunes & stampede thru corridors of broken down glass doors & old abandoned lemonade stands / gaining ground worried for world-renowned offers to authors writing constantly upon old typewriters trying to create random springs of genius hitting & missing mischievous exploding nebulas in ocean-eyed skies tramped upon by silver slits in gold showing beneath it, the gold’s true worth / questioning everything you see & wondering where you went wrong or if you went right, why you’re on the road you’re on & where you’re even heading at all / frantically wandering about darkened roads at night questioning questioning some more boxcars clicking along tracks & rivers rushing rushing rushing, rustling past you & night owls flying & hooting overhead, frogs calling to each other in the swamp / & amongst the cacophony & chaos & jarring discord

answers

 

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