Oh
this jasper dream, wrapped in charisma, flaring through sapphire eyes. I perish
to live it, picking asters, and dandelions—and tulips. Oh daughter of light,
pour out a blessing, for the years of Jeremiah; and this is love, the deepest
concentration, for the rain that falls. There’s beauty this life—a mazeway of
love, and flowing in rainbows; to hear a dramatic tone, or an uneven texture,
to retreat into a storm; but the mind is aqua, and centered in beige, for the
riches in-betweens. Music is blaring, to permeate a river, a reservoir of
hearts; where the swan dances, this organic fire, fevered through pantomime
gestures. We watch as silk flows, and glitter glistens, alone sailing a yacht.
If only to feel it, to drift through metaphors, to live this life; where
legends breathe, through the tears of prose, insync with souls; the measure of
this kiss, a moment this bliss, as rich as sullen joy; to feel the droplets,
woven in wool, to will through
nervousness. Oh to hide, from something so grand—the fear of failure; and ever
this Light, this kinetic voice, as bold as concert hearts. We live laments—to
ballad our dance, to seize but a fraction—of something made abstract—even for
murals, painted in visions. We love through genres, the color of life, trekking
through a sad forest; where lions pause—the darkest caves, to give for glory. I
see her as love, to master the waters-woes, swimming through a lexicon; to
venture this life, an inner duet, a hive to the senses; whereat is mercy, to
tailor fate, a hymn decorated in pearls. Oh daughter of light, pour out a
blessing, for the years of Jeremiah; and this is love, the richest
concentration, for the rain that falls.
