The mountain sparrow
sings to the moon
the rock pica sings to spring
A thousand things awaken
with the cycle of the seasons
The mountain sparrow
small and gleeful
like spring itself
flitters with energy
from branch to branch to seed
Singing to the moon
cycles time itself
a communion with the sojourn
a communion with the self
bringing home solstice solace of the soul
The rock pica sings to the spring
echoing off the rocks
barking that marks
even the unseen accompanies
the wilderness in it's solitude
A thousand things awaken
from hibernation, from death
the flame of life accustomed to this hardship,
unfolds it wings from slumber
to soar above the barren to the cities in the sky
The cycle of the seasons, the four doors to eternity
through one, the dormant awakens
through two, the juvenile play
through three, wisdom takes and sows
through four, time itself forgets
The mountain sparrow
like spring itself
brings home solstice solace of the soul.
The flame of life accustomed to hardship
with wisdom takes and sows
until one steps through the door where time itself forgets
No comments:
Post a Comment