In days of Spring my thoughts are born
And ride the winds of yestershore
And live among the blue of sky
Where thoughts and dreams will never die
Where clouds do what they will and then
Refill themselves to dream again
Of shapes and moves: smooth and free
And they are what they want to be
The sea, a restless sky beneath,
That lacks the patience which he sees
And so reflects the skies above
From down beneath his watery hub
Until the sun betwixt them runs
When each, his own, does swiftly come
To meet at this: The light of day
When skies are seas and clouds are waves
When thunder and the waves will cry
When color spreads both sea and sky
Awakening the reds and blues,
Yellows, pinkish, purple hues
When time itself, it makes no sense
The stars have yet to come down hence
The sea, its tide, has yet to pull
The sun, its dial, bends the rules
The day, not knowing where to rest
The night, it looks for sun to set
The twilight is the glorious thing
Of which, these, nature’s wonders sing
When nature is a person, it seems,
Confused by all its thoughts and dreams
Deciding this, Deciding That
In turmoil comes the wild matte
And yet it’s here, from conflict great
That nature seems an awestruck state
Perceived by we, the lookers-on
Who deem the scene from realms beyond
And so I pose this question last
And leave you ponder the answers vast
In what way is it, say you now,
We are perceived, day in, day out?
2 comments:
Wow! Beautifully done! Going to be chewing on that for awhile. Your words paint breathtaking pictures. = )
Love you,
Madre
thanks madre! :)
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