Man: A poem by Keith M. Survell.
In the early days, man worked with nature.
In the middle ages, man worshipped nature.
In the late ages, man works against nature.
But he doesn’t want to.
The Water Flows: A poem by Keith M. Survell.
The sky is gray
But the water is clear
The sound of water flowing
Of things growing
Where once was desolation
No voices here, no cries, no shouts
Only Water, Nature, Sky and Wind
Singing songs long forgotten by mortal men.
The Wind Howls
The Trees Sway
Destruction rains upon this land
Then all is still
Then all is calm
The leaves stir
And a mind wakes from years of slumber.
The rock is cold
And I am old
No longer on rivers do I travel bold
To seek out new life,
But that’s no fun.
For when all’s found then what’s to be done
With those who made it their life?
…And the Water Flows,
And I think of you.
Love begins as a stranger: a poem by Keith M. Survell.
Love begins as a stranger,
A voice in the night,
A knock at the door.
Then Love becomes a friend,
Present at events, invited over for dinner,
Missed when gone.
Lastly, Love becomes Life,
The life blood of those who hold it,
The force that binds two hearts.
Love becomes something you can’t live without.
And Love is never a stranger
Sparkling Rain: A poem by Keith M. Survell.
Sparkling rain, dripping, falling,
Crystals of the sky shattering on my doorstep.
The essence of life, the cool, wet, dampness
Of Spring, in her eternal grace and beauty,
Bringing back the life we long for.
Foolish men, who prize the rocks of the Earth,
When more they should prize
The silver sky!
Time is a river: a poem by Keith M. Survell.
Time is a river,
Flowing quickly, flowing slow.
We are but tiny fish in a powerful stream,
Helpless to change our destiny.
Sometimes the river is quiet, and peaceful,
Other times the river is violent.
Some of us are thrown from the raft,
Never to be seen again.
But all rivers must flow into the sea,
And all rivers begin somewhere.
And there is more to this world,
Than just rivers.