Why do you tell the world just so,
Why do you speak unplain?
What is the push and pull within
That wraps the word along
In patterns, rythme and weaving, or a  threading?
If you can write in paragraph and line and write as plain as day
As others speak.
Why do you say these things just so, that beg some time
To sit and think,
And pull apart like child at play.
Like dough in hand, forms and shapes,
Flexing and extending.
To see
Just see what shapes and forms, what beauty
Will come from void?

Why do you tell the world just so?
Why do you speak unplain?
What is there in subtle hiding or buried hidden thought?
Why tuck inspiration or creation in words
That speak like puzzle piece?
Why does a child sit on the floor, hours spent
With block in hand or lego piles, to see what he can make
From void, from nothing, make something beautiful, wild or wooly
When on the shelf sit hundreds of toys to grab in seconds flat.

Why do you tell the world just so?
Why do you speak unplain?
Why do fields hold wonders and whimsy and skies and seas
Do too.
A lifetime is spent in discovering these
That lay in the world He made.
What joy in telling of all He does and makes and gives, in
The world and in a life, as seen by eyes inside a heart.
Can we see the mystery in the hidden hummingbird nest
So small, so buried in the limb
Or see the cross which cotton bears when burst open right at  harvest time?
I knew not
They were there.

Until I look still, closer, still
And listen with my heart
For small and subtle, nearly lost in a frenzied,
Shouting, clamoring,high octane world.
When some are screaming, writing tomes
Is there a place for poet’s voice, a home?
It takes a moment longer, you linger or
You’ll leave, impatient with the telling.
Many say, say what you mean and say it fast
And some say simply short is sweet.
But the poet winds and rambles leaving crumbs to gather
On a page.Saying rest awhile and seek the deep.
A world is rushing by, but you
May slow your pace and rest your eyes with me
Let’s talk of life upon these lines.

And seek the hidden things.
Let’s look together at this life, find beauty
And amazing, the wondrous and the plain, lying in the shadows.
The world made mysterious by His hand, the smallest  subtle intrigue
Try to understand the intricate, He’s artist Creative God.
He’s buried complex things, they’re hidden in the deep.
Let’s hold our breath and hold up time  to find, to truly see.
Come explore with patient eyes.
The deep, the hidden marvels in the space
That lies between you and me, us and them.
And hold on traveller, pilgrim friend
Just ask the poet why and he may say
There is simple beauty in the hidden things.

Joining Emily, Duane, Jennifer.