Creative: The Hand of Nature

My handsome and wonderful friend Alex’s beautiful poem on nature. A lovely read. Check it out. x

Alex Raphael

The cold, transparent, frozen, hand of Winter
with its heavy, shivering, fingers
and sharp yet fragile claws,
touches all it can see,
covering three season’s worth of nature
with its web of glass,
and the haunting words it uses
confirms its work has been done.

Spring’s hand gently yet forcefully
pushes Winter aside
with its leafy green, smooth, steady fingers,
and removes all of Winter’s trace
with a few brief touches
that have been rehearsed for so long,
concluding with a lovely melody
that it sings quietly with perfect rhythm.

Summer’s decorated, dextrous, talented hand
joyfully arrives,
waving goodbye to spring,
while at the same time
summoning the rest of the animal kingdom,
who are attracted,
by the infinite shades of yellow,
and the hypnotically enchanting
wordless song sung with such happiness.

Autumn’s hand gives a quiet signal
to the ever rejoicing Summer,
before the ever different creatures
are warned

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The Harvest 

They gave each other the sweetness of apples,
immeasurable by hand.
An orchard assembled by 
loyalty and determination,
where two horizons met
bound by soul constellations
An intimacy that went beyond a
bed of grass and fleeting endorphin
laced cider.

But no matter how bountiful the gathering,
we sometimes become too accustomed
to the beauty of the return.

We forget to take time
to savor what we hold dear,
clinging too long to
memories of past harvesting
Or we become consumed with
the yields of new fruit.

No time to fight or even mourn
for bruised apples
left to oxidize in the
toxic air.

Neglect takes root, hurt unbridles
And careless words become an
apron full of briars.
A spider lodged in the hem.

The orchard once ablaze and alive sheds
it’s golden mass becoming nothing
more than a misbegotten shadow,
a crop of blue scars, an artifact
of loss.

-Tosha Michelle

The Things We Do For Love

Sunset and a song. Have a wonderful weekend xx


Music For Sunday ❤️

“This is our life
These are our friends
This is our family that grows and bends.
This is our chance
This is our time
This is us making things to somehow leave behind
What  will we leave behind to show
That this is our life”


No Words 


October In View

I could live for the sky today.
so bright and vast
Spread a blanket on the ground
Open a basket of hope

Feast on the taste of an illuminated
world, green fields
with no fences, the sun rising
over the meadow.

Devour the middle of the white
chocolate colored clouds
No one to take note of me

Serenity in the stillness
My skin alive with the melody
of the breeze slow
dancing with the golden leaves.

I sway along with the stray wind
My face dusted by
sunlight. My worries dissolving
into sweet pitch of
a heavenly October day.

-Tosha Michelle


The Next Big Thing


Big ideas are everywhere,
from religion to capitalism.
There’s always someone
trying to sell us something.
I’m burnt out on the peddling.
I just want to be left on the
side of the road while I still
have a little sanity.
Let nature stand for all I believe in.
As for faith, I’ll leave that to the sun.

We all die in the end,
the good, the bad,
the blissfully indifferent.
It doesn’t matter how well
you sing the hymn,
or if you know the slogan
by memory.

Life is freshly pressed and
the creases only hold for so long.
I’d like to believe in
the lottery, mail in rebates,
and a free trip to Hawaii.

In my crisis of faith,
I have moments where I wonder
if we all just fade to dust.
Our molecules scattered
in the wind.
Left with nothing but our
collective darkness,
where there are no charge
off or loopholes.

All I know for certain
is I know nothing.
Oh to have the wisdom of Solomon.
I look for assurance
in the clouds.
Punching the fog.
I fall back on my upbringing.
close my eyes and
pray for grace.

-Tosha Michelle