Annie Johnson




Spring

Spring comes wearing a bright green dress
And fragrant flowers tucked in her tresses.
Spring comes on feathered wings;
On bird song and the hum of bees;
Rich loam of freshly planted gardens;
The soft songs of earthworms
And the flutter of butterfly wings.
Spring skips gaily over the creek,
Through the budding trees and dells.
She sings to newborn lambs and calves,
And spindly legged colts trailing mares.
She washes her hair in sudden showers,
Primps at her reflection in the clear puddles;
Dances with the wind and giggles like a girl
When the grain of newly planted fields
Breaks through the earth and tickles her feet.
Spring is happiest when she is adored;
Planted with flower beds, brushed and seeded
To enter summer in a carefree riot of beauty!
Annie Johnson©






Destination

Set my feet upon the path
Let not them tarry nor stray.
Let me feel the hard clay;
Feel the hay meadows;
The mossy wooded trails
Beneath my bare feet.
For I’ve a wanderer’s soul
A tempest gale heart
A lightning bright spirit
And calling bird longings.
Set my feet upon the path
While wanderlust beckons
I’ll surf on the waves of morning
Glide on the air currents of soul dreams
And go where the Butterfly leads.
Open my ears that I might hear
The scolding of the Crow
The Blue Jay’s raucous prayers
The Mourning Dove’s gentle lament
The soft moan inside a cocoon.
The restless soul must ever wander
Where reality plays sanity’s game
And flaunts its sunbeams in blinding rays
Upon the heart-scape’s boundless wonder.







Oh, Let It Be
Forever Morning

Oh, let it be forever morning
Forever dawn with light just breaking
Over some distant darkened hill -
Forever silky leaves bathed in new-born gold
And silver throated Thrushes calling
In dew-sparkled piety
From swimming reverence high
Atop the minaret of morning;
Misty, flowing notes
Calling the faithful
To prayer.







The New Earth

You shall walk upon the Earth, with bare feet.
Every inch of this planet is Holy.
Your feet and body are protected by your mind.
You shall rise and sit in the trees
Or walk up and down their trunks with ease.
You shall walk on stones and climb mountains
And sit on the highest peaks and watch the stars;
Watch the sunrise and the moon set when you please.
The Earth feeds you from trees, plants and flowers.
Every inch of the Earth provides for you abundantly.
You’ll map the Earth by paths that you alone make,
There are no signs for where you go or if you’re there yet.
You will know the miles before your foot touches the path;
For miles have no meaning or reason for passage
They are set by where your mind leads you.
There is no time on Earth; no Earthly clock to mark.
There are others like you, and you seem to know them;
There are no strangers on the Earth, you are one being.
What your mind knows; everyone knows.
You speak with your mind and share all beauty.
There is no sadness; life is boundless joy and song.
The very water sings beneath your wading feet.
The flowers dance with you when you pass
And fountains spring up where you stand.
This is how you will live on this sacred land.
You will laugh, dance, and love will follow you
Everywhere your heart’s desire leads you;
Earth was always Heaven.







Wind

The wind moves the earth
It carries voices over the vastness
Of space and echoing mountains.
The wind sings of time -
Speaks its secret to proud trees -
Sings to tone-deaf stones -
Sings to laughing streams
And ruffles the hair of infinity.
Wind clears the voice of the fog.
In dreams it brings lightning and rain;
Tickles the neck of the canyons
And aspires to greatness, sweeping
Tumble weeds to perdition’s fences.
The wind moves the earth.
It baptizes the rivers
With Holy ripples of flowing piety.
Where do you go after you kiss my face?
What lover’s rendezvous do you keep
With the prancing manes of horses
Or dandelion’s fluffy heads;
Or dragonflies going south?
Wind, where do you take the kisses
I blow from my fingertips, like wishes
Into the moon-drenched air?




Annie Johnson

Annie Johnson has been writing poetry since she was 13 years old. She is now 80. She is Native American of the Shawnee Tribe. She has written and published two, six hundred-page novels and three books of poetry, now on Amazon. Annie is a world class quilt designer and quilter with many awards for her fine quilting stitch. Annie has won several poetry awards from prestigious world poetry organizations, including, World Union of Poets, she is a member of World Nations Writers Union, has received the World Institute for Peace award, the Ambassador de Literature award from Motivational Strips, the World Laureate of Literature from World Nations Writers Union and the Global Literature Guardian Award from Motivational Strips. Annie lives in Indiana in the same house she moved into when she married her late husband, 58 years ago. She has a son, two daughters, two grandchildren, and two sons-in-law and seven cats. One daughter and her husband moved in with her after her husband lost his sight two years before his death. She enjoys cooking, reading poetry, and writing poetry. Annie played a silver flute in the University Symphony for three years, on a music scholarship and still plays her flute.