Ever Shifting Terrain

Just Hanging ~ Philip Brent Harris

Just Hanging ~ Philip Brent Harris


The sweet trilling of the flowers,
baritone voices from an old grove.
Neighbors for thousands of years
find new sympathies to share or
embellish the same stories, again,
old conflicts in different ways than
on myriad other days, other years.

Bees buzz between boles, intent
upon the bright blossoms’ lure.
Unaware or uncaring about the
bones beneath them, although
they have known their essence
over many seasons or the earth
where they touch down to dance.

Birds explore melodies unheard
in eons. The air holds its breath.
Their songs sailing faraway on
this ship of silence, ignorant of
sun-warmed, altitude-chilled
raptors seeking ranges of sight.
One folds its wings and dives,
striking, unexpected lightning.

Mate and children bereft by an
absence, always feared, never
suspected. All too brief to weep.

The rumbled basso profundo
wisdom of mountains sends
echoes to their distant family.
Sharp peaks, sloped shoulders.
Hidden treasure in unknown
vaults speak of ancient battles,
feuds leading to forgotten rifts.
Plates cracked into different
pieces, landing in other rooms.

Only noticed by big, bipedal
creatures of old long after.
What carapace they captured

far too long ago to matter, lost
amidst the grist, ground down
under fights or drowned under-
neath their own cacophony. Yet
ignored by life unless assailed.

Home to many. most times and
most places, constantly changing.
Growing old, tired, rising young,
spewing lava indigestion, creating.
transforming ever-shifting terrain.


People Over Politics, World Over Wealth!

Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength,

Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment

Unite the World!


See more of my creative offerings at:

Philip Brent Harris Fine Art, Digital Art and Photography

Just Hanging ~ Philip Brent Harris

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