A World Within the Iris

i cannot show you the world
but i can show you mine
painted in pacific tides

see these tsunamis
and the quick kisses of morning sun
collide violently all into one

to express a realm of quiet storms
with a touch of bleeding forests
and aggravated rivers no longer running their courses

and where embers rejoice and waltz with the stars
with jealous hands of bark trying to follow
and whistling winds, by blackness, are swallowed

and where trails are slurred by the prints of human hands
with fossilized greedy finger dents
and stakes that once held down thin, shallow tents

and where mountains are brushed by salty lips
with indents of once-familiar loving palms
and apparent robberies of intertwined calm

and where the toughest dams have clearly eroded
with sparkling lakes uprooted by emotion
and holy inertia to refill them, driven by devotion

this is my world
now show me yours
swirling in Earth tones and iron cores.

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This Poems Story

the eyes are the windows to the soul; they allow us to explore worlds entirely not our own. take a look inside of mine, and here is what you will find.