Autumn – Love Poem For Her

Autumn

Lovely as the leaves
decorated in their colorful clothes
in the midst of October, 

brisk and crisp as the breeze
that electrifies and blows
at September's closure, 

and mystifying as the spells
of magic that cover
the forest in fall;

it's no wonder I fell
and never wanted another - 
my forever love, my all. 

Justin Farley

Orion, the Hunter – A Poem

Orion the Hunter
ORION, THE HUNTER

Orion, hunter of the skies,
I'm jealous of you. 
Every time I look up I find
you with your bow drawn
and an arrow nocked,
ready to be shot out into the universe.
That must be one happy hunting
ground you roam.
While I sit at home,
trying to find a way
to spend even a day
out in the freedom of the forest.
I'm rapidly aging and restless,
and you appear ageless.
I don't see any wrinkles on your face.
You seem just as nimble
as you did in my youth.
We posses nuclear weapons in our arsenal;
you're still wearing a quiver,
that same belt
you were wearing thousands of years ago,
and your kills are still done with a long bow.
Our technology continues to grow.
And yet, you remain mostly unchanged
with all the time in the world
to do that which you love.
Have we missed something?
Because, Orion, I'm jealous of you. 

Justin Farley

Purpose – A Poem About Growth and Flowers

Purpose

Waiting in the darkness
is the catalyst for change.
A seed hides just beneath the soil
and toils to germinate.
It breaks out of its hard, lifeless shell
and reaches desperately for the sun.
It takes root and won't stop until it's done
flowering and offering
exactly what it was born to give -
beauty to the world.

Justin Farley

Deer Child – A Nature and Life Poem

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Deer Child – A Nature and Life Poem

Doe and fawn
drink from the creek at dawn,
filling their bellies
to last out the noonday heat.

Doe protective and cautious;
fawn careless and unconscious –
unaware of the eyes
watching her from the bank.

Age brings wisdom and experience,
for the youthful heart is oblivious
to the dangers disguised as blissful indulgence
lurking in the field of freedom.
.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

Nature Poem About Walking in the Woods

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Walking through the Forest – A Poem About Nature

To walk through the forest
and see sunlight shinning through the trees
is like a cool, refreshing breeze
to the spirit sweltering beneath
the heat of worldly troubles.

To walk through the forest
and observe nature’s mysterious order
is like a wall erected in the path of disorder,
calming the chaotic thoughts
in the mind of modern man.

To walk through the forest
and witness untainted beauty
is like relieving the watchman from his duty –
worry retreats into the void to sleep
while I gaze upon the work of divine hands.

 

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

Poem About Birds Singing In Spring

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Birdsong

The birds of morning take their places
upon the stage of life’s amphitheater
where their voices have remained mute for months.
But today, they rise in joyful chorus,
belting out melodious tunes.

Isn’t it funny how such a small animal
can make a giant footprint upon the soul
and lift a heavy heart higher
than pharmaceutical cocktails and cognitive endeavors –
a voice that sweeps the soot from the chimney of the soul
with only chirps in rhythmic time and playful ruffles of feathers?

Somewhere subconsciously we believe
they are the gatekeepers of spring
and have enough magic in their beaks
to end this bleak, cursed winter.
Their songs are beautiful incantations,
awakening nature from its deep slumber
and inviting all who hear their music
back to life.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

Poem About Seasons Changing – When Autumn Leaves

“When Autumn Leaves” – A Poem About Seasons Changing From Fall to Winter

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I take my dog out the front door to do his morning business
and feel temperature change whip me in the face –
chilly air burning and freezing my nostrils simultaneously.
Overnight a lush, green carpet has transformed
into a frost-tipped arena of ice.

Blades of grass poke up like tiny daggers.
With each footstep, they pierce my hope for Autumn to stay.
The rays of the days have been wasting away –
dark by the time work’s done with no light for play.
And of Autumn, I fear she’s reached her death.

Frost isn’t welcome here.
But Nature defies my every command.
She controls the tides of the seasons
as an unseen, unstoppable force,
moving across the realms of life like an invisible hand,
brewing chaos and bringing order,
destroying life and creating life
without uttering a word.
Silent, but always heard
by all forces of life in this world.

I must cave to her order.
But admit I am not ready for when Autumn leaves –
when she packs up her warmth and color,
when the fiery flames of pumpkins are extinguished
by rot and mold,
when greenery withers in agony when kissed
by the north wind’s harsh breath.

But I must submit to Autumn’s death
because Winter comes without my blessing.
I see frost from my doorstep this morning
and know it won’t be long before Winter arrives.

About the Poem

Living in Indiana, it seems fall is always too short. It is by far my favorite season, and I feel I never get enough of it. Many years, by the time your notice that the leaves are changing color, the temperature is finally cooling down, and it actually feels like fall, a week later it’s bitter cold and snowing. As much as I hate the changing of seasons from fall to winter, I am grateful to live in a state where there are stark contrasts from season to season. With the seasons changing, it reminds you that nothing is meant to stay the same forever. The seasons change, and we must adapt, year after year, as we are called to do. They also humble us and remind us that there are greater powers in the world. But it’s never easy for me to see the first hard frost and know that fall is about over and winter is just around the corner.

You may also enjoy another of my poems about the changing seasons, “Frost of the Field” or you can find all of my poems on nature HERE

Woman – A Love Poem For Her

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Woman – A Love Poem For Her

You are like the waves lapping against the shore –
Repetitive, seductive, intoxicating, cleansing
Like holy water that wrings out the darkness.

I sit unceasingly upon the sands of time
Waiting for the rise of your tide,
To feel your waters once more by my side.
Staring off into the drab, gray horizon,
I admire flocks of sea gulls.
Only for a moment, but never long enough
To loose sight of your ebb and flow.

Woman is an ocean –
An endless vessel of mystery.
Who knows the measure of your depths?
Who can see the floor of your soul?
We all float in safety as sailors in the bosom of your rest.

Your ripples are enough to rouse suspicion,
To know that beneath your surface currents rage.
But we all long to dive within your waters
And be nestled within the confines of your embrace.

Your seas are salty,
Yet our tongues still thirst for more.
A water that never satisfies,
But opens the flood gates of passion’s door.

You are like the waves lapping against the shore –
A sweeping hand seducing, gesturing
Us to step away from the safety of land.
Woman, you are the demise and prize
Of the heart of each and every man.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley


 

photo credit: Receding Sunrise | Assateague Island, Virginia via photopin (license)

Raven

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Raven

Jet black feathers fall from your head
And brush the beauty of your cheek.
Dark as night like strands of onyx
Woven with omens and tales of mystery.

The spell you caw claws at my heart and captivates me.
Emerald eyes like a pair of dazzling jewels,
Sparkling and rousing lust like a treasure
Uncovered beneath Arabian sands.

Stay perched upon this tree, find safety within
These limbs and the arms of my branches
That conceal your past, and take rest knowing
That your secrets fall upon a humble heart and hushed lips.

Grip your talons into my skin if you must,
But do not fear the embrace of my hands,
Petting and soothing your feathers in disarray.
Have faith, do not fly away, fall knowing you’ll never be betrayed.

Your body like sleek, black oil;
A fuel that has remained untapped,
But only needs a quick strike of my match
To blaze into a beautiful inferno of passion.

Your beak remains closed, but I know
There are words that fill
The bowels of your soul,
Longing to be set free.

There is great mystery
Within your complex simplicity.
Share with me the secrets
Of your long and trying flight.

Tell me stories of your nights –
The forests you’ve flown through;
The pains and joys you’ve encountered
On your arduous journey.

Some may find your feathers too ruffled.
Some may find your feathers stained like soot.
But I find ultimate beauty in your ebony armor –
A black canvas I yearn to drag my brush across.

Raven, make room for me beneath
Your veil of apprehension,
Raise your wings and let my touch
Move your heart to sing.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley


 

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Everyday Miracles – A Poem About Finding God in Ordinary Things

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Everyday Miracles – A Poem About Finding God in Ordinary Things

The clamor of your wisdom claps
like a thousand hands in unison throughout the forest,
calling from every treetop,
and whispering within every breath the north wind blows.
Your wisdom can be found in the simplicity of a dew drop
and within the caw of a congregation of crows.

You are an invisible hand, always laboring,
opening and closing doors as you see fit –
not always on my time frame,
not always giving me access to the rooms I wish,
but often times I find ignorance is bliss.
For the paths I most yearn to walk down
you wall off, knowing they lead to my demise.

You are the wise King,
always leading, but serving unceasingly.
With each new day you bring,
I am astonished at your beauty –
as long as I make the time to open my eyes,
as long as my awareness is focused on you
and turned away from the desires of my mind.

Your miracles come in small packages,
constantly sent, but rarely opened.
I look for you in grandiose experiences,
but you keep gently tugging at my sleeve,
urging me to put on my leather gloves
and dig for you in the dirt of the garden.

If I’m not careful,
I can become oblivious to the everyday mystery –
the beauty of a daffodil,
the way sunlight rests upon my windowsill,
the spirit that speaks when my mind gets still,
and the non-coincidental meetings of strangers,
sharing the exact conversations I need to hear.

Open my eyes when they are blind to your majesty,
so that I may witness your glory
in every root, rock, river, and ravine.
May I read the love letters you’ve written
upon every stump I pass in the forest,
every deer that crosses my path,
and every squirrel that leaps from limb to limb.
May I marvel at your everyday miracles
and find your fingerprints upon every piece of evidence
in this case called life.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley


 

photo credit: Ontelaunee Creek Tributary (1) via photopin (license)