Poem: The Underfar

It’s the underfar
and it’s near away
it’s a sigh that kicks
and silence that victors
din.
It’s a keeper of way words
a hand pointing
a voice calling wind ways
and which ways.
All ways.
It’s an earth foot
and ocean’s lake
a hound’s tooth
and metal rake…
A deserted sun
that bakes
snow that won’t melt hearts
that can’t break,
not yet,
not yet.
At least not now
when it’s almost too late
to be up before dawn
to see that sun rise.

Can you be that sky star?
Can you be that brilliant underfar?
Can you bring surface
to what is beneath?
Can you make fortunes aheap
bequeath
from the tomb’s future
a herald…a stone tempest…
a pilot-
fiery and covetous of all that is rare?

If you walk through the forest
with the town in your ears
you’ll sense hear fears
and the bosom boom of roots
shall set you straight
with how you can’t see
anything
with those eyes either.

There’s nothing you can’t leave behind,
nothing of enough value to clear steer.

It’s the underfar
the underfar…
find it.

That’s all.
Find it
and make it near.

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About skymeetingtheground

Healer, poet, author, yogi, single father...outdoorsy guy.
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