Poetry by Johnathan David
The Fire
As the thunder roared and the wind howled,
We see the light in the distance.
And as the fire raged and burned,
Comes the instance,
Where temper is unleashed, and thoughts are telled.
But the assistance is come,
Yet the cries are yelled,
And the mental resistance is held.
Where the Wind Walks
Come, we must go
To where the wind walks.
For there we can know,
To where it stalks,
And to where it blows.
For where the wind walks,
The leaves follow.
And don’t talk,
Until tomorrow.
But keep moving
Past the racks and stacks,
Through the trees,
And under the breeze.
On the seas,
But around the bees.
Because where the wind walks,
The seeds will follow.
And we need the seeds,
To feed our hungry,
Because our trades south have failed,
After we bailed,
And sailed,
To new land,
And in this land, We stand,
Hand in hand.
So come, lets find
Where the leaves follow,
And the seeds go.
Where the weeds sway,
In dying light of day,
To find what to say.
Lets go,
Where the wind walks
The night away.
Today
What are you feeling today?
Or would you rather not say?
I myself am feeling a bit under the hay.
So could you stay?
Because I may.
And I don’t know where to go anyway.
Art by Camden S.
The Lighthouse 