They're so vital we almost create their breath Their breathing becomes a haunted hollow as they die. The winter is like a moment before a silent collapse as frost and snow blanket and reveal their still ways of communicating. Their ideas flow in and out of our minds as the air around us is like … Continue reading Ribs of a Tree: James Adamson

The sky came first It swallowed the earth and the dead molten rock I swallowed bits of sky to learn its way as if I could roll heaven into a pill like a prescription is a sermon Why does the night shine like its sky is braver than the day? Does this collection of rocks … Continue reading I Swallow Bits of Sky: James Adamson

The vein ridden sky disallows the beating heart's recluse like a hermit that breaks the lotus position and dances. We all find our way to the open; to the wheat though frost covered windows reveal the warped light of the empty winter trees that scrape at our technology; at our dead and fallen inner basics; … Continue reading Trees at Night: James Adamson

The winter view is captured in tree limbs sliced imagery or clouds in the sky that have aliens and penguins and comic characters frozen all winter They ripple and layer and unevenly capture the light The inner rhythms of a word like frost vibrate of the ancient wisdom of letters though the glass remains covered … Continue reading Frosted Glass: James Adamson

A heart is a stain glass bird and the heart flutters as the glass flies to the sky Its eyes admit light to its other side and the world is transformed into fragile beauty as it flies deeper into the sky It soars with the glory of a twinkling star The clouds make way for … Continue reading Stain Glass Bird: James Adamson

Is it beautiful or ominous? the still and frozen limbs of trees that lace and stand like of stalagmites that shock us even though it took so long for them to form. Frost is simple so much like a sleeping horse, the the way they stand and even blink dead asleep. Even heavy laden snow … Continue reading Hoar Frost Again: James Adamson

Silence of a still day though the grass and trees sway in the air. Belonging to a power that encircles with your hug. Pressing for reasons that elude the captive audience of strangers that know the future but condemned me years ago Circling my life in a slow outward spiral like in a maze started … Continue reading Silence of a Still Day: James Adamson

It’s like you’re free in my arms Light lightly feather light Sing singingly feather bird Give life air through the window bird Bird of tomorrow window Make swimmingly the song, the heart Singingly you’re in my arms Work hard physical life holding Freedom work of forming rest Loving deep among the sky Sway dance tree … Continue reading Containment Inside, To the Glory or God, To Gwyneth, with Love: James Adamson

To the Glory of God To Gwyneth with Love There’s more than one way we return to our early days Our submission is one Our irrelevant anger; the grey that comes from destruction The murder that comes from the past; Untreatable, uncommunicated pain is anther I’ve heaved with tears Some will tell people the resurrection … Continue reading I'll Be Crying: James Adamson

Bite an apple and see if everyone isn't a strategist who makes it up as they go along with a limited world. Play the piano and see if there's enough variability for creation to music your soul. Play a guitar and find the speed of vibration. It isn't enough to make you want to know … Continue reading AC/DC: James Adamson