9-2-14

I stare into the stillness of the high eastern sun,
encased in a fragrant cocoon of yellows, blues, and greens;
the wind casts a song upon the horizon like a bow to a string,
and my dreams burst to the clouds, the dust of yesterday kicked out behind
like billowing jet stream-
my soul sheds its fences and wades into the blue,
awash in the strokes of watercolor sunshine glinting off the windows
like steel to flint-
it reminds me of clarity,
of a soul nude with innocence and indifference,
and of the transparency of acknowledgement-
my thoughts drifted like fingertips dipped lazily into a pool of still water,
each ripple a memory,
a desire,
a goal,
a thirst satiated,
a journal entry into the timeworn logbook of the days…
that high eastern sun provides promise,
a stillness amid the chaos,
a blue against the black…
a beginning,
an end,
a song upon the horizon as fragrant to the ears as a bow to
a string*

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