The rising sun had never seen a day like this,
although he did not know that yet.
His rays touched the tops of the forests,
his shining lit up the mountains of azure.
I saw this through my window and made a wish,
that my true love's demands could be met
and that I would sing her praises in one long chorus,
loving only her with a love that was real and sure.
The sun always rises, cold or not.
The snow from yesterday evening, all melting now
before the constantly consistent morning rays.
Under the shade, snow hardens and turns to ice that will last for days.
In the snow-bound meadow nearby, the one lone milk cow
stood there dumbfounded like some lifeless robot.
The dripping of the snow-melt off of
the rooflines of nearby houses yields
a pitter-patter sound to the backdrop of Winter.
It is still cold here, but the sun by itself causes melting.
Shivering, I draw my smoking jacket closer around me, as wreaths
of incense swirl over my head. Sometimes sweet Jasmine,
other times Mag Champa, it always adds an air of mystery
to the overstuffed library. Outside the huge snow flakes are pelting
the early Springtime leaves
shredding their new growth before they had been seen by men.
But that is another story...
The empty, cold firelplace begs the question, "why?",
as I begin to shiver and then to cry.
My fiance's mere words over the Internet thawed my heart of ice.
Turned to ice after long, sad, lonely days of no communication.
Now beating again like the husks falling off of grains of rice,
I live again, celebrating by myself in this new time of jubilation.
Rivulets of melt-water run down the streets,
gathering forces with others until the storm drains
are surging with the flow.
Normally full only with the never-ending Spring rains,
the pulse of the water entering the drain beats
with the rhythm of my thawed heart as though
they were connected somehow
in the here and now.
My heart of snow now one with hers,
beating together like a cosmic clock,
she lying in her bed amongst her furs
thousands of miles away, high upon a rock.
I here in the cold heartland of the mountains,
wishing for the Spring thaw when rivers become fountains.
It is in such circumstances as these,
that true, undying, unrelenting love is born.
------------------------------------------
mindbringer, 28 February 2014
although he did not know that yet.
His rays touched the tops of the forests,
his shining lit up the mountains of azure.
I saw this through my window and made a wish,
that my true love's demands could be met
and that I would sing her praises in one long chorus,
loving only her with a love that was real and sure.
The sun always rises, cold or not.
The snow from yesterday evening, all melting now
before the constantly consistent morning rays.
Under the shade, snow hardens and turns to ice that will last for days.
In the snow-bound meadow nearby, the one lone milk cow
stood there dumbfounded like some lifeless robot.
The dripping of the snow-melt off of
the rooflines of nearby houses yields
a pitter-patter sound to the backdrop of Winter.
It is still cold here, but the sun by itself causes melting.
Shivering, I draw my smoking jacket closer around me, as wreaths
of incense swirl over my head. Sometimes sweet Jasmine,
other times Mag Champa, it always adds an air of mystery
to the overstuffed library. Outside the huge snow flakes are pelting
the early Springtime leaves
shredding their new growth before they had been seen by men.
But that is another story...
The empty, cold firelplace begs the question, "why?",
as I begin to shiver and then to cry.
My fiance's mere words over the Internet thawed my heart of ice.
Turned to ice after long, sad, lonely days of no communication.
Now beating again like the husks falling off of grains of rice,
I live again, celebrating by myself in this new time of jubilation.
Rivulets of melt-water run down the streets,
gathering forces with others until the storm drains
are surging with the flow.
Normally full only with the never-ending Spring rains,
the pulse of the water entering the drain beats
with the rhythm of my thawed heart as though
they were connected somehow
in the here and now.
My heart of snow now one with hers,
beating together like a cosmic clock,
she lying in her bed amongst her furs
thousands of miles away, high upon a rock.
I here in the cold heartland of the mountains,
wishing for the Spring thaw when rivers become fountains.
It is in such circumstances as these,
that true, undying, unrelenting love is born.
------------------------------------------
mindbringer, 28 February 2014
