Beautiful river flowing through a forest.

River of Life

Image from American Rivers

The only infinity on this Earth is the infinity of the questions without answers.”

-Autumn Brutyn

The River of Life

A poem by Autumn Brutyn

Sitting on the shore of the endless sea
A question came on the wind to me 

A question so rhetorical, so subjective, so sweet,
A question without an answer, forever incomplete

Impossible to answer, yet it lingered on my thoughts:

What can encompass life?
Life, so complex, so filled with strife!

A frog on the banks of a never-ending stream?
One speck of dust in the golden sunbeam?

No, not that, that’s not right.

Because what of the endlessly multiplying people?
Billions and billions, like rust spots on a steeple

The infinite wisdom in a dragonfly’s eye?
Each meaningless fleck of dirt in a rancid pigsty?

No, not that, that’s not right.

Because what of the young ones, the old, the bold?
Each spirit, so unique, with hearts warm and cold…

Can nothing emulate it, that tumultuous diversity?
The way the Earth rumbles and shakes, all topsity-turvety? 

Maybe, maybe not, but one thing comes close.

Because time will never cease to fly,
I thought, just like the river chugging by

The river, with its millions of glistening bubbles
Bobbing and weaving, like children, no troubles

The river, highway to the sea, comes close

Because it ebbs and flows, angry before it calms,
Has droughts and floods and never-ending qualms

Pebbles shift and change, silt travels downstream
Just like humanity, restless in their dream

That river, roiling and bubbling, comes close


Life is imperfect

Life is diverse



Never a curse

Life is drowning

Life is sweet



Take it from me:

There never has been, and never will be, one true answer
Life’s secrets are elusive, captivating, like a masked dancer

But if you seek an answer, please, hear my plea:
Turn to the river! The water! The path to the sea

Because the river, 
To the sea
Comes close

🐕 Dog in every view

Beautiful dog
Dopey smile 
Lolling tongue 
Wagging tail

Candy dog
Chocolate fur
Caramel eyes
Taffy tongue

Feisty dog
Wrecked tennis ball
Rooted-up yard
Snappy bark

Clumsy dog
Strewn-out toys
Bulky hips
Awkward paws

Quick dog
Pulsing heart
Sleek build
Lightning legs

Lazy dog
Sleepy evenings
Sluggish movements
Snoring nose

Hungry dog
Expectant beg
Dripping drool
Shredded bone

Same dog
In every view
You can’t have just one
Because all their love is for you

🌺 Midnight Lily, Bloom!

Casablanca “night-blooming” lily, via Earth-n-World
Midnight lily blooms
Flowers lustrous, sickly sweet
Shy, afraid of day

Beautiful blossom
Afraid to show her glory
What are you scared of?

Frightened of the sun?
Scared your beauty will outshine
The red daylight rose?

Midnight lily, shine!
Dare to bloom, under the sun...
Show the world your worth

Petal, blossom wide
Throw your colors to the sky
Life is yours to take

Dwelling in moonlight
Hide away beneath the stars
Tantalizing grace

Midnight lily blooms
Ready to show her beauty
Envy of the rose

Pride of the garden
Beautiful both night and day
Midnight lily shines
Poem, Writer's Wednesday!

Writer’s Block. A Writer’s Wednesday Poem

Blank sheet.

Cursor blinking furiously against the white.

I’ve been at this all night. 

Blank sheet.

The unfilled space is ominously bright.

Not enough ideas to start this out right!

Blank sheet. 

Tick… tock… tick… tock.

Deadline drawing nearer:

Thoughts aren’t any clearer.

Tick… tock… tick… tock.

A bell chimes the hour, I’m weak in the knees. 

I stare at nothingness, slamming the keys.

Tick tock!

The clock insists, but I’m trapped in writer’s block.

No words.

I can’t seem to think. 

Every word or phrase I’ve ever heard, entirely down the sink.

No words.

Blinking black line.

Begging for some words to write, I have to decline.

No words.

Write it down!

The sheet insists, but my brain is out of town.

Can’t write!

Time is marching on,

Grades and fans will be up and gone.

Can’t write!

Inspiration is sparse.

How can I be a writer if I can’t write for arse?

Can’t write!

Push those keys!

The screen insists, but my ideas are on the breeze.

One word. 

My name.

Let’s turn this spark into a flame!

Two words.

The date.

At least I’m in a better state…

Writer’s block.

Write more!

The people insist, but I’m tired to my core.

Writer’s block.

The blank page stares me down.

I feel like such a clown…

Writer’s block.

Titles evade me.

Should I take a break? Would that just be lazy?

Writer’s block.

One word.

Two words.

Three, four.

The stress is mounting, I can’t take it anymore.

Five words.

Six words.

Seven, eight.

Backspace it all, too late.

Blank sheet.

Poem, Writer's Wednesday!

✨Happiness- A Writer’s Wednesday Poem!

Source: The Economic Times


The true treasure of man.

People search their lives for the key to it,

Desperately looking for some big secret.

But they will never find it, though they try with all their power.

The harder they search, the further it slips away,

Like grappling for soap in a hot shower,

Getting more out of reach with each futile day.

Why? It’s simple.

There is no real key.

Happiness lies in the little things.

The more you look for it, the less you see

Happiness is fuzzy socks on a cold day,

it is the warmth of the hearth on Christmas night.

Happiness is the wind in your hair as you whip down a

Rollercoaster, exhilarated and screaming with joy and fright.

Happiness is the beautiful, echoing note singing out of a french horn.

Sweet and pure, so dainty! Like a rose without a thorn.

You can feel it in the tide that laps against your toes,

You can smell it in the breeze that brings sea salt to your nose!

Happiness is inside jokes with a friend,

Laughter that never seems to end.

Happiness is the brilliant blue expanse of summer sky,

Laying on your back watching clouds drift by.

Happiness is the sugary, mouthwatering cookie dough

As you lick it from the spoon, laughing at the warning with a defiant glow.

Happiness is singing your heart out to a song,

Dancing around the room, feeling so free,

So deliriously joyful that your heart just might burst

As you hit the perfect note while you sing along.

That golden glow of happiness that we crave so dearly

Is found not by one specific thing,

But by all the little moments that clearly

Make life worth living.

Poem, Writer's Wednesday!

A house is just a house- A Writer’s Wednesday Poem!

In the spirit of April, the poetry celebration month, this is another poem I wrote for English class that I find to be thought-provoking and really makes you think about everyday things.

A house is just a house- A poem by Autumn Brutyn

A house is just a house.

Each wall is simply wood,

The roof is but a scrawny slab of shingles.

A house is just a house.

Or is it?

Have you ever given a second thought

To the railing on the stairs?

It helps you when you’re weak,

But you don’t do the same.

It supports you on your rise,

Helps you all the way…

Yet you don’t do the same.

And when you reach the top,

Reach your destination,

The place where it worked so hard to get you,

You let go.

It’s just not useful anymore… so you let go.

Discard it thoughtlessly, everyday.

Abandon that rail when it helped you so much.

Have you ever given it a second thought?

No, you haven’t, have you?

When a light bulb gets dim, you don’t

Give it any light, you don’t fix it!

No, you throw it away.

Simply because it lacked light.

After all it had illuminated,

It lives in the trash.

All because it was dim that one day.

When you’re depressed, or dull,

Do we throw you in the trash?

No, we don’t!

It’s different, you say,

But is it really?

A house is just a house.

The stairs are just a structure,

A light is just a light,

The rail is simply wood.

A house is just a house.

Or is it?

Poem, Writer's Wednesday!

Writer’s Wednesday! Summer Soiree- A poem

Image from Walldevil

This week, I was inspired to change it up a little bit and post a poem instead of the usual fictional piece because of the poetry unit we are doing in ELA. In English, summer soiree translates to summer evening, and I wanted to represent my vision of a warm, late summer night when the world is on the cusp of autumn.

Summer soiree by Autumn Brutyn

The sun sets over the world

Illuminating the land in a golden glow

Beams of light receding,

Welcoming the shadows of night.

As the moon descends from heaven,

A pale and milky white,

And drenches the sky in moonlight,

Upon this summer night.

An eagle watches from a far up branch,

Surveying the rolling lands

A sea of trees with yellowing leaves

Heavenly and serene upon the gnarled branch he stands.

How could such an ugly color

Give way to brilliant gold?

How can such a grotesque, rotting yellow,

Hold orange and fiery crimsons untold?

Each baring branch claws the sky,

Bathed in silver light,

Each blade of grass glimmers with dew,

The world shines with moonbeams

Descending from the sky.

Feathers ruffle in the breeze,

Gazing out to the sparkling sea

A distant wave crashes,

A cry out to the land.

Sand glimmers gold in the sweet shining light

A symphony of sounds whisper on the wind

Tides pounding the shore, a canary’s lovestruck song,

Melancholy gales howl through the trees

Yet the eagle still stands strong.

Summer soiree, the moon is shining bright

Summer evening, autumn creeps through the world

Summer soiree, an eagle surveys the night

Beautiful starlight as the dark gives way to day,

The gorgeous, gleaming colors

Soft wind blows over

Heaven on earth, the perfect

Summer soiree