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Nature's Pinball Machine

The light has turned from red to green
The barrenness of winter
To nature’s pinball machine

Bees flying from flower to flower
Fleshy leaves appearing on every boney branch

What was only the kernel of an idea
What was only a humble hunch
Has grown wings and flown like Falcon 9
Heading for the stars
Has made a schedule of blocks of time
Has started the trek
To places positively far

Because you can only spend so long
Nourished in your comfortable cocoon
There’re only so many times you can say
Soon and very soon

Until you put feet to your passions
You try your free will out
You see the seed you’ve watered
Begin to finally sprout

We take our cue from nature
Which bursts into full bloom
We hear the call of city, town
From our private little rooms

You might be young, you might be forty
You might be further on
But if you hear the music of the spheres
If you hear the river’s song

You’ll want to finally set adrift
Towards the ocean of your dreams
You’ll long to see your desert paths
Transforming into greens

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From my latest spoken word album, "Color Poems."

author comment

about your title, I get the idea that sometimes, it can feel like you are in a pinball machine, with the weather bouncing all over the place, but it just doesn't do it for me. I am good with the rhyme, mostly, the only problem with it, is that it took so long to get going. The beginning of the poem is a shambles. Line breaks are all over the place and the rhyme is sketchy to non-existent. Good start though. ~ Geezer.

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