The Prince

The golden grasses bow before their sun
They lean in the breeze, murmuring tales of courage
The light walks through them, softly brushing each one
His footsteps whisper to the meadow an adage
           
            When the east breeze blows
            The tall grass grows
            When the west wind whips
            The growth is clipped
 
The plains do part before their prince
He echoes the path flowing towards forest
The sighs of the meadow ears do softly glimpse
For he leaves again for the woods before us
 
The stout trees reach with their gnarled hands
To touch he who brings them light
The prince dictates to them where they rooted stand
A rhyme to adventurers proven so right
 
            Here shadows fall, here trees tell all
            If only a traveler listen
            The bark is a wall, the oak’s might is tall
            But the dewdrops of wisdom glisten
 
Crumpled leaves do not crunch underfoot
For the prince leaves no trail behind
Only the song in their branches is put
As he leaves the shaded woods to climb
 
The prince doesn’t bother as the air grows thin
For a son has no need to breathe
Oh the mother provides for her child from within
Now a song from his mouth is relieved
           
            Misty mountains, cragged and iced
            A melody cold isn’t worth the price
            For the sun melts away all that is froze
            Since the flowers and birds only now doze
            With a touch of my gaze they shall rise on this hour
            You mountains forget the bite of sleet sour
            For that hard icy snow will soon turn to warm rain
            To spring these peaks shall return again
 
The whirling winds calm now to soft breeze
Honey voice of the sun is carried away
And the petals unfurl into beauty with ease
Not until winter shall the mountains be gray
 
The prince on this mountaintop now grows weary
Rousing spring has proved no easy feat
And the son longs to shine upon the earth clearly
Merely lighting the world with his constant heartbeat
 
So his footsteps won’t fall on the earth for a year
He rises skyward towards his heaven
As his golden body the resting home nears
His voice rings out above the spring din
 
            Tall grows grass, fast flows river
            Fragile flowers don’t dread your wither
            Roots reach deep, mountains melt
            Trees and peaks are never felled
            Climb high as you can in the spring fair
            Breathe in great gulps of son-warmed air
            I’ll always hang above in the sky
            And in fall I promise for you I’ll cry
           
           
 
 
 
 
 
           
           
 
 
 
           
 
 
 
 
 

 

Prince

VT

YWP Alumni

More by Prince

  • Back window

    The quiet potential of the vehicle slept 
    Through a freeing darkness of misty rain
    Down the windows the silver droplets crept
    The shine of the water could certainly stain

    The rain covers like shadows, thick as honey
  • Flake


    Flurries feather down, illuminated only
    When they fall past the light
    Of the fluorescent streetlamp,
    Glistening on the street below.
     
    Melting as they kiss pavement,
    Flakes create a gray sheen
  • Mother

    The word encompasses all
    Nature caring for her fragile children
    A writer carefully crafting words she has written
    A gardener nurturing plants she’s been given
    Guiding a van down a road constantly driven

    Mother