#nature
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by Michael Plante There’s a chill that creeps up your backwhen the full moon risesand the mist hovers over the hills of Carolina.In the old tin shed a candle is litand placed in the window to ward off the ill.“Never mind about this housemove on to where you need to be” And the spirits call…
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by Michael Plante So grey I cannot see anything…fog all around me; stings my eyes.Droplets form, then run down my cheeksfalling from my chin to the ground below.There is a chill in my heart.I ask my Creator, “Am I alive or dead”?There is no response. I hold a staff in my right handmade of black…
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by Michael Plante I sat next to the Creator upon a blue stonewatching him dot the night sky with stars.Humming a song and contemplating before each star was created.I started to get the feeling that nothing was random with the Creator;that every action was well thought out.My presence upon the blue stone was his requestalthough…
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by Michael Plante The howling wake returned an answerto a riddle I asked many years ago.The feather did falter and was lost in the nightnever to return to the river’s edge. The incumbent star of spirits passedholds secure the lasting lightforever reminding uswhere the river is. Trickery or tomfoolery trips the mindstumbling behind the shadows…
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by Michael Plante Secrets buried beneath the soilthought forgotten by those that deceivebut all misdeeds cut the souland blackness seeps out like blood.The structure that houses their Godfalls silent in the nightthe sickness remainsthe floors rotten. At dusk they fall to their kneesand God’s eyes look downwhat gets them through the nightshall strangle them by…
