A Thousand Cranes: Volume 2

By Ashlee Craft

the artist-poet
sitting on the porch steps out back
of the old Victorian house she inhabits
looking out towards the secret garden
where many magical things have happened
& the aroma of blossoming flowers
& the sound of frogs & crickets
& the smell of the cool night air
surrounding her as she looks out towards
the sky
waiting for
her one thousand paper cranes
to return to her again

she knows something wonderful is about to happen

A Thousand Cranes - Volume 2 is a collection of 100 poems that will inspire your life & brighten your day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashlee Craft
• Release date: Aug 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301711789

Ashlee Craft

Ashlee Craft is an author, poet, artist, musician, filmmaker, & photographer. She has written more than 45 books in a variety of genres, & publishes a monthly art & poetry zine called Assemblage. Ashlee is also the CEO of the publishing company Freedom Meadow Media, & has been featured in a segment on Fox News. She can be found writing on her blog, Ashlee Craft's World, creating art, & living by her life-is-a-playground ideology.

Book preview

A Thousand Cranes

Vol. 2

Ashlee Craft

Copyright 2013 Ashlee Craft

Smashwords Edition

Ashlee Craft

Text copyright © 2013 by Ashlee Craft

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Cover art by Ashlee Craft

Cranes in the Night*

the artist-poet

sitting on the porch steps out back

of the old Victorian house she inhabits

looking out towards the secret garden

where many magical things have happened

& the aroma of blossoming flowers

& the sound of frogs & crickets

& the smell of the cool night air

surrounding her as she looks out towards

the sky

waiting for

her one thousand paper cranes

to return to her again

she knows something wonderful is about to happen

Oh, the Stars*

oh you beautiful wonderful things

dancing in the starlight, celestial & celebrated

hallowed moon in the sky million-universes circling

& swimming in the wave pool

twinkle in the sky eyes peering thru from behind a dark curtain

there just for me to look at

all of it there for me

just as it's all there for you & everyone one else

living or lived or ever will live

light & air light & air

pretty thoughts flowing thru my head

in a world filled with books & music & animals

watch the fireworks alight

illuminating the silent night's dusty corridors hidden within

the alleyways mistaken & forgotten

until suddenly being brought to light again

underscored by passages into secret gardens

unrelated to eclectic ecstasies unspoken under moonlight

in puddles reflecting the light all around us like

a million diamonds; the jewelry I'd rather wear

setting alight the flowers tucked gently into my hair

glowing in the sun nurtured by the life around me

like fireworks flying endlessly forever onwards onwards on

setting alight the hopes & dreams inside of us

oh, you wonderful things

oh, the stars

Turning to Face*

I've run so far / I've ran I've ran / suddenly creeping / mysterious sounds in the night / like black panthers hiding in jungle trees / stars shining only in darkness / raindrops running down windowpanes / rainbow coming out in the after-rain mist / running down the soaking pavement wearing sopping tennis shoes shoes slapping against the pavement in the pouring pouring pouring rain / rain soaking my skin rain soaking my hair rushing rushing rushing onwards / covered in this cloak of rain heart pounding / I'm running back to where I should be / I'm running back towards what I left behind / it's time to stop running away / it's time to stop running away from it all / it's time to face it

A Beautiful Morning*

22 – Sunday – 8:29 a.m.

I walked along in the morning light

the wet grass bathed my feet

I looked down & saw dewdrops each harboring tiny rainbows

he walked along in the went sand

his feet left tiny prints behind

a mockingbird called overhead, & we turned to go home

I saw an earthworm on the sidewalk

struggling to cross it before the sun would soon be overbearing

I picked it up & brought it back home to my garden

I saw a flower trying to bloom but the soil was dry

I brought it a glass of water from inside my house

& I watched the flower grow big & strong & beautiful

I went back inside & ate a nice breakfast

while eating I planned what I would do that day & smiled

today was going to be a beautiful day

A Hundred Thousand Universes*

don't you know how wonderful & amazing you are?

With your shining eyes & illuminating smile

with the happy way you go thru life & the way you face it all & stand up when you need to?

with your musical laugh & your beautiful body & the way you make people feel happy too?

with the way you care about everyone & the way everyone loves you back?

with the way you look at each day as an adventure & the way you stop & smell the roses & how you make your own sunshine when you can't find any?

can't you see how amazing & perfect you are

you've got a hundred thousand tiny universe all growing & glowing inside you

a hundred thousand tiny universes

I Think What it Needs*

overlying quantity hazy summer evening of holding onto ^ no more holding onto it all ^ the grasps of the dusty hand rails upon the train platform as it jumps on & on & on thru the night wishing on the odyssey of stars / multiple colors of acrylic paint & a jar full of paintbrushes & a spray bottle & cozy piles of blankets & orange checkered cases of wood handled teacups & heart-print ribbons pots of glue & a cup of green tea / snappy solitudes secreted daring & dancing frenetically in gray prison cells made of lies but can be melted & broken out of simply by asking for a candle / a decree of nestling newborn birds never-ending stories writing on leaves recording the histories in the barks of trees & in the supple rippling of riverside waves / working flawlessly to grow the American angelica trees with composted fertilizer &