By Magda Portal
I'm a sea since I could never have been a river
An unchanneled sea
of green merriments
and solitary depths…
An unchanneled sea
of green merriments
and solitary depths…
Explore Poems: Nature
Showing 1-20 of 5,010 poems
- By Mei-mei Berssenbrugge1 Plants and rocks lay under night sky; ground is a subject of sky; the relation's a force.
I combine… - By Nicole GonzalezAbínígo ch’iłbaa hózhóní
ch’ínádzi’,
Bí ch’ilátahózhóón nídiich’ah
dóó ádík’as,
Tłeé’go ch’łbaahózhóní
ná… - By Manny Loleyániid nahóółtą́
ániidigo
nahóółtą́ą
chxósh
chxósh
chxósh
chxósh
naanahóółtą́
k’ad
nááts… - By Zoey YazzieI come from ablazea female mountain boulders scorchedcradled—in—betweenbeat—strainedbeet—stained…
- By Hershman JohnLast Easter, I gave my mother-in-law a large, brown, simple ceramic
Navajo water pot, shiny with pine… - By Nicole GonzalezIn the morning the flower
petal wakes up,
the flower petal yawns and
stretches,
the flower petal goes… - By Manny Loleyrain passed through
just now
rain
chxósh
chxósh
chxósh
chxósh
rain rained
now
rainbow
stretches
water … - By Manny Loleychahóółhxeel
sǫ’ bitsádinidiin
nahookǫs bikǫ’
binaago deikaah
sǫ’ binahjį’
hane’ náás oot’ih - By Manny Loleynight drapes
stars emit light
around the north star-fire
stars journey
in their wake
stories extend… - By James JoyceI heard their young hearts crying
Loveward above the glancing oar
And heard the prairie grasses sighing… - By R. L. SwihartThe migration continues. Continuous. Sporadic.
With mathematical complexity, wind
over sand
*
Ropes … - By Camille T. DungyAsk me if I speak for the snail and I will tell you
I speak for the snail.
I speak of underneathedness… - By Meredith Strickerin the DMZ ravines north of the Kaesong wastes edging
south of the perfect ruler’s pink and prisoned… - By H.D.Or is it a great tide that covers the rock-pool
so that it and the rock are indistinguishable
from the… - By BashōWake, butterfly—
it's late, we've miles
to go together. - By Jack Collom"When one is seen gliding through the woods and close to the observer, it passes like a thought, and…
- By Emily DickinsonWe should not mind so small a flower
Except it quiet bring
Our little garden that we lost
Back to the … - By Emily DickinsonGrief is a Mouse -
And chooses Wainscot in the Breast
For His shy House -
And baffles quest - Grief is … - By Carolyn ForchéThese are your stones, assembled in matchbox and tin,
collected from roadside, culvert, and viaduct,
battlefield…