Inspiration:
Thinking about how how basically all the energy we use on a daily basis has ultimately come from the sun.
Medium:
Pigmented ink pen and watercolor pencils (used dry).
Run
Nuclear storms a million miles away
Feed the trees, melt night to day,
Drive the wind like a solar mill,
Forcing clouds up mountain hills,
And down flows rain, feeds the plants,
Wets the ground, makes rivers dance.
A seed is planted by a path
And gathers sun and rainy bath,
And grows itself into a tree
As tall as two or three of me.
Some apples grow on a branch,
I pause to pick a few by chance.
I’ll eat and turn them into words,
Perhaps a poem that sounds absurd,
But only with whatever remains
After I’m done running away
From the angry guy yelling at me,
Something about his apple-less tree.