The run off of a busy mind

[Indy]

I am one of those people who is always thinking, drawing and writing so when I saw this forum i thought i might as well see if any of it passes the true test of quality -do unbiased strangers like it- and as such here is a selection of my work; enjoy.

The westerly wind

The wind whistles westward,
And in a breath order is scattered.

And a leaf;
A ragged leaf,
Is rising.

Up,
And up.

Dancing;
suddenly majestic, it dares to be more.

And for a moment it is . . .

Beautiful.

But the wind is soon gone, and so is the magic.

Once more the leaf,
Is just a leaf.

But one day the wind may come again.


This too must pass

The fleeting light,
Leaves the earth desolate;
Fearfully alone.

But a man stands,
His lantern burning bright,
Strong, steady, ready.

A prick in the sea,
Of consuming dark,
He stands . . . stands and stands.

But slowly he wavers,
And the nail is forced down.
The darkness complete.

Hope is surely lost,
But the earth keeps on turning;
The sun once again rises.

[Indy]

And know for a poem that feels slightly rougher so any critiques on this would be especially helpful

Erosion

I quested for a pearl,
Of cool sepulchral glaze,
Spent endless nights and countless days,
Traveling along old, well worn ways.

But all I found was a rock,
So unworthy of its praise;
For though its whites did glisten,
And eternity was in its gaze,
It was naught compared to the journey,
And the men now resting in their graves.

I no longer lusted for riches,
But for a good that doesn't fade;
For rich a man may be,
but always will he be dismayed,
When he is without meaning in any of his ways.