The wind carries the poet.
Casting poems
of times past
and times remaining.
Wordless stories, unbound.
Forever flowing and ending never.
Bird's whisper tunes, the lyric blooms.
I remember how it goes.
The sun burnt the verses into the sky for us to see.
The moon winks and reflects on this solar offering
...in due time our eyes and ears will know
how, when, where, and why.
Painted words , sculptured stories.
blue sky canvass bleeds red
as yesterday remembers tomorrow and
tomorrow forgets memories.
Patience reads between the lines of
time, this time.
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