Who knows where the inspiration to create comes from? To my way of thinking, whether they are material or lyrical, the things we create are the purest expressions of our individual humanity.
These pages are largely poems I have written over the years, but the first was written by my brother, Mike.
In Autumn Winds, Tree Leaves Applaud
in peaceful frost stillness
of amber rust and gold shoots.
Green and shadow surrender without a sound.
Dew dropped blades arching to pale blue sky,
curve inward to dark earth root.
A breeze stirs.
Seed husk fluff pods burst forth
in a star reach.
Grass leaf mats shiver
in a slow melt.
In autumn winds,
tree leaves applaud,
and fly away like birds.
c 2007 mike carmody