I look to the skies
For though they are blinding
And boundless
Out there is some of me
And in me, some of there
I look to the skies
For though they are blinding
And boundless
Out there is some of me
And in me, some of there
There is wonder in stillness
That I long to grasp
I reach for a word
Sitting upon my tongue’s tip
Yet it slips away
As I commit the ink upon the page
The words rise up and turn to fevered dreams
And thus my mind is freed from earthly cage
To see far past this grey world as it seems
The wind howls
And in the roar
Words
Spring forth
Let me see your depths
Gaze into your eyes’ ocean
And find treasure there
The wintry blanket covers all the ground
With softest, purest flakes of fallen snow
That dampens all so there is not a sound
Naught but the fiery brightness of sun’s glow
Rise with the sun
And sleep not
Until you have danced among the stars
I walked in winter’s cold
And looked up to the sky
And in the bitter chill
A voice was rising high:
“Cease, mortal, in your steps
And turn ye from the cold
Go warm yourself beside
The fire with those you love!”
And such was how my wife called me inside
When does the sun rise
O’er a land shrouded in gloom
Lighting it with fire?