Tenderly

andrew13.photosight.ru

The light goes soft
the breeze is gentle
the shoots are tender
and the flowers tiny
there is a glow on the skin
and a smile on the lips
clouds float lazily
and I hear whispers
in the bushes
that ask me
to tend and attend
but not pretend.
Tenderly yours
says Nature.

Of Nature...3

harry.photosight.ru

Even the tiniest flower
and the mightiest trunk
live by the same light
and wear the same wind
but breathe same life
into their self
celebrating differently.
As one sways the other stands
and as one firms up 
the other fades.
And just as the grass
brushes lightly
against my bare thighs
I touch lightly
the bare bark 
of the tall ones.
To touch is to live.

Freshness...2

geneoryx.photosight.ru

Freshness of dew
in the freshness of morning
just when flowers bloom afresh
draws me in
the freshness of my skin
and the freshness of my whole
being
as it leaps to envelope
the whole universe around me
until only the 
freshness 
remains. 

Scatter...2

alekseymalyshev.photosight.ru

I am not
making up my mind
which way to go
- the way of the mind
or the way of the wind.
Mind flutters and stutters
here and there
now and then.
The wind blows
hither and thither.
Both are beyond control
yet very close to the skin
and very open to move.
I don't know
what will happen if
I continue this way.
May be I will float
and flow or
fly and drift.
Why worry?

Happy in self..2

chirakovalsky.ru

Still waters
still my thoughts
and feelings settle down too
only Light dances
on the waves
and lightly plays 
with my inside
The rocks accept
my tender skin
as my mind closes itself 
to all that has been
and all that will be.
It floats in happiness
slowly rocking me
into a waking sleep.

Not yet...

vladimirberoev.photosight.ru

There is nothing 
either I can do 
about it
or you can.
It's raining
and raining hard
and I haven't a thing
to ward off the rain
and keep me dry.
Drenched I am
and drenched to the
bone.
Do I like it?
I don't like standing in here
like an orphan
but I do like
the rain drops beat against
my thick skin.
Each drop is like
a piercing through centuries
of neglect 
of my self
my soul
my wishes
and of my body too.
It hits me hard
to realise the injustice
I have done to myself
of ignoring myself
putting me down
- that is the ultimate 
in humiliation.
I don't want to look back
and I don't want to go back.
It's my time now
and it's my life.

Caught...

maslovaalina.photosight.ru

Silken is smooth sand 
so is my tender skin
Soft is the light of the dawn i
so is the murmur in my heart.
Waves grow in their roar
so does the turmoil in me
I can feel it, the beauty of being
and the pain of carrying it
and the softness of curves
and the yearning of the flesh
I am caught in covering it up
and yet looking on with hope.

Crossing

Well, I crossed it when I came to it

and now must choose

to wade ahead or plunge deep.

The sun doesn't lift

my spirits:

I left behind everything

and everyone

to be just myself

and feel the world in

the raw.  Now here I am

needing a shelter

lost in the resolve

to be myself.