Simple Theories

  All trees testify to entwined roots and top of the air. The slicing clean autumn light poses generous litmus to the immediate. Honey locust may seem more connected by virtue of the special light. Embracing yellow in a wild context, the earnest particular enjoins by preference. You don't even know what you prefer at the end of the gavel beyond the intense measure and radical unionization. All good and the heroic meaning of other. A jutting pattern emerges, our adenosine triphosphate whatsis in the momentous thrill. Listening to your tree like waking to the middle. The autumnal effort looks everywhere for you. You could at least send yourself in. In is the only out left.

  As winter fades according to moonbeam schedule and the effects of clomping dances, the jump-back kick rises again in the blood of bungee jump impromptu. Pure temerity asserts a ravaging pace to tree sap. Zoom makes the marvel of zoom. Nothing else happens but days grow longer despite time remains as static and indifferent as ever. Your dot moves slightly. The skulk of birds in the new variety of sky sends cinders of provident words into such roiling mayhem that an Easter of beyond bunnies arises. Local spinneret yields exactly olfactory replete. Someone the world mowed excess, replete, and joyful nothing simpler. Smack words in the total, you earned the seminal rite to put snow shovel black in mind gathering sorting. Gavels for Ganesha champions and seed time. Look you, the wastrel dandelion plants itself. Your turn would seem to follow but you need the extravagant texts left everywhere for confirming and idolized proceeding. The jump-back kick now solemnly proffers, books you have r

  The holly,  ilex aquafolium , bears leaves of stiff, shiny green. Its charming red berries tantalize the eye. These berries can be used unsuccessfully as medicine against many afflictions and religious crossroads. The tough holly leaf has a stiff, poky feature that can tear the inside of the mouth. This makes them inedible, thus all the more attractive for medicinal use. Rising suns and running deer somehow have become associated with the holly. Make them therefore part of your winter solstice celebration while the dark forces lay in wait. The spines on the holly leaf can represent the crown of thorns that adorn that famous guy. Defy Rome or whatever skullduggery of potentate, let symbols run wild. Without excessive effluvia the holly can offer calming thoughts and quaint caroling amidst the hazard of time. Various functions remain to the winding year. Brave the down sun and lift high what voice you have. Let myriad crisp masses lift you to the top of whatever bottom you now inhabit.

  The Bible mentions a burning bush amidst its languorous story hour. Being a book, The Bible prefigures time and space just as do you in your varied blurring. The biblical Burning Bush had an angel inside and the god deity also, or something like that, however you want to picture that. And this phenomenon spurred something in the eyes of Moses tending Jethro's flocks. Just read how words can reside where they are. This story relates somehow to  euonymous alatus  arriving from Asia, just another wandering, decorative, invasive hobo. The plant's flower barely makes impression, don't worry about that. As a shrub it remains dispirited in its plodding enchantment. Being thus a sensation, it opens your eyes. In Fall, when your eyelids have fully risen, the burning bush foliage reveals the scarlet of its secret. Well, messages appear everywhere concerning time and death and other vague associations. The Bible has been trouble enough with its handles but bolts of red in your Autum

  Waning gibbous winter heart folded in grum perpetuation of wading on, a poem. Winter performs easily in the death this week in slightly large letters like almost happening now. The casuistry implied in just thinking winter happens, at least a word for that occurs. And now you feel down because crunchy snow or some poorly lit thinning of late season impediments to docility. The same must be right or what can time really do? A bolt of language when someone dies amidst gibbous waning moon like light failing lightness. Where will the tokens be in dark human leaning toward or against? Poetry's specious arguments fail language in this light, the untold smacking cold and finished and finished. You still hear a voice.