Wednesday, May 12, 2010

A spring morning-written to be read aloud

And so I wake to subtleties
in both my heart and mind
I want to dance with drops of rain
and look no more for fear to find

familiar more than friend or lover
the sallow reaches of my mind
beneath the quiet, early summer
we've met again in bended time

my imagination wants for hope
just as it begs for death
and I become my misanthrope
imagination steals my breath

But stolidly I recognize
from a place whence came the rain
there lives a gift beyond the lies,
beyond the knowledge I've ordained

And in the quiet of the morning green
goes the popping of the drops
as day from fertile dawn is weaned
the darkness has been stopped

and I breathe into my mind
and allow myself to wander
I soon forget what's left behind
and fear not the coming thunder

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