Contributor Posts

Black as night
blue, green sheen
of feathered coat,
smart not mean.
A noble bird
of any scene
was it a vision
or just a dream?

When Winter Winds
cease to be.
When Spring winds
chase the chill,
Summer winds scorch
the Earth,
as timbers parched,
raise their limbs
to escape the heat,
awaiting Winter snows..

Forth came the wind,
forced through the light,
anguishing those souls,
afraid of the night.

The night approaches
on tippy toe feet,
as the Sun gives up
making its retreat.

Day was done,
A setting Sun.
Darkness here,
And yet.
Somethings missing.
Where is
The Moon?
Is it,
At play,
Hidden by Clouds?

The wind in the Willows
plays new melodies,
while branches rub others,
the sound puts me at ease.

Dark the clouds
on a Horizon far,
choking the light
from a dying star.

Filmed at the Harry Laidlaw Honeybee Research Facility at UC Davis with the help of Billy Synk. Music by Rob Moose (@mooseofrob) See more videos from Anand Varrma 

Across the window,
beyond the pane,
started a dance,
Wind and rain.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/westlangdesign
https://sonya-lang.pixels.com/