Wild And Free

All is quiet beyond the music,
which shatters shining rays
of golden knives, issued forth
from a sun so highly placed.

A column of old, which houses light,
stands silent, waiting upon another age,
while the shaded pavestones weep
below, this summer walking alone.

Yes, summer has arrived,
too late, my heart is cold,
hence I shield my eyes
from its burning touch,
lest it melt away confusion.

An icy fluid cruises veins,
networks of identity, underlining
the skin, which sheds eternally.

Now time wastes away with leisure
as I rest my head to sigh,
I watch the land below,
grow slowly to touch the sky.

The evening arrives while I untie
some words: so light,
to float above the sky;
so pale a blue, cloudless,
it paints a picture for the thoughts
which right now shift shadows;
catching eyes, and breezes grieve
with songs so soft
then fade and fly
into harmonies parading
before this earth: so sweet,
spoilt, hurt, it slices
selected sections of sleep,
like a blade of burning fire.

Yes, summer has arrived,
while faded hills
are captured in mist,
they laugh - it echoes
through my mind,
so wanting
for knowledge, truth,
to walk and dance along
its lanes, so finely tuned.

Over the landscape I perceive
a shadow hangs so dry
causing sorrow to my heart,
and loneliness to my soul,
haunting my eyes,
washing my spirit, with dust.

Yes, summer has arrived,
yet all that dances in your eyes
brings a love that overpowers
the gloom, which persists
in touching my heart
and nature does soothe the loom
which weaves these times;
so sharp, piercing our cries,
so dark, obscuring summer rays.

Yes, beauty fair, wild and free
from change, walks beside my days,
yes, summer has arrived.