The sunlight fills the soul of blue…
Surrounded by the fading glory…
Of an ancient crown of green.
The keepers of the lair wherein I lay
My mind sails on the clouds that drift above,
Clearing the way for more wondrous worlds…
It is not in the beyond and hereafter
But in this fleeting flux, where lies my bliss
As the chariot of the Gods of flight
Cut across the lines of light,
I meditate upon my pointless path…
The gift of purpose is theirs; the joy in it is mine…
Like the little one relishes the gentle nudges of its nurse...
I feel the currents knead my back in this wooden lap..
As I await a playful Poseidon who shall rock my cradle…
And the curtains of contentment to fall upon me…
