Sky
reflecting Sun's magic
and appeal.
yet Shadow grows longer,
and the air falls
still, absent
of birdsong, yet
pregnant
with the mysteries.
and so
much
more....
imagination begins
to stir
underneath the hedge,
and
between
the gnarled roots of the old tree.
an urge
to dance
tears through my soul.
a need to awaken to the silent rhythms of Night,
and all her hedonistic pleasures...
...to play,
mischievously, and innocently...
to live...
free.
Published by nomisyar
I collect Spores, Molds, and Fungus.
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