Song of the Yearning

The leaves of grass lie by the
Stubborn sea and point their sails
Into the winds of the soothing waters gone
Searching in the cold of polar ice for
Melting hearts of white stone. There in the
Liquid dark is the predawn sight
That mocks my desire to pour the day bright . . .
Thick is the soggy air
That sucks away that melody fair
Tucked away deep within my heart
Wanting and waiting a new love to start . . .
All of heaven is the space
Where I will trumpet of the grace,
The tender nature of someone true . . .
Softest, melting heart of purest blue!