Friday, September 24, 2010

I am the Lion in Paris

I am the lion in Paris
watching life
flow by like a stream,
their dancing spirits vibrate
the atmosphere
and disregard
my questing eyes.

I am the lion of all seasons
and I sink beneath the weight
of time,
I long for the open fields
of spring tides
and the warmth of honeyed sunshine

I am the lion of nature . . .
granite is so cold and hard,
the call of the wind
flows through my mane
and removes me
piece by piece

I am the stone in Paris
refined by moving streams of time
I am earth and wind and fire
and I dream I am
a blazing star . . . 

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