Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Who Knew ?

Who knew that my yesterdays
would become as seared as old pages
in a book. . .
my dreams faded;
memories covered over by
the growing steam on the mirror
of my days . . . 

a copper leaf falls
into a silver bowl
falling silent,
a hedge of moss
blankets a still tree. . .
you chose to move me with your music,
verbose and yet
quiet like that moment when
the sunset flashes emerald. . .
my heart lifts in its ribcage
like a bird fluttering against
silver bars. . .
you release me from my sorrows
and yet I dive in again. . .
your image grows in the frame of my mind,
a rose blooms
in the dark forest
glowing like a pregnant moon. . .
you gave me the heights
and the depths
You gave me time
you gave me  . . myself . . .

a small squirrel stands his ground. . .
the sun slants sideways
turning wet surfaces into shimmering gold,
a wood smoke flows into my eyes
and as the tears come
I see
a snowbird flying up from
a scattering of white petals
sprinkled over
my pathway

The music carried me as I walked
and the scent of musky memories
traveled through my veins . . .

there they mingle
and become 
one . . .

Some lovely ambient music . . . to carry you on your travels . . . perhaps into space where you can float and have pleasant dreams . . . calming and introspective . . . Lovely!

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