Walking the garden of my mind,
Every moment,
Might I find
As a kite to fly,
Each wakeful one -
On currents, rising,
Kissed by the sun,
Gifts of warm possibility,
Pulling up playfully
Higher than high,
Tugging and lifted
Beyond to the sky,
Where today's but a whisper
Down in the trees,
Of wishes unfolding
Blown on by a breeze,
Where dreams can begin,
And reason descends
From along the sharp ridge
Where the garden ends.
3 comments:
Here again, is the key to our great regard for nature's beauty...our minds give to nature something that it is incapable of generating, namely, beauty. We are both the dreamer and the dream and we see beauty as we see love...in the flash of a eye, in the bend of a stream. :)
Thank you dear Count - remembering that there is no actual separation whatsoever - between ourselves and nature - except in our intellect, our unreasonable reason - let's hope that we can appreciate our own beauty - before it's too late. :)
Yes, that is my hope too. But, at times, it seems the madness, our unreasonable reason, is closing in. But, I
trust beauty and love to save us from ourselves. Your poetry is a fine contribution to both.
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