An old one, but it’s better now.
the warmth of the earth be thy home.
Where whether parched,
or soaked to the bone.
Your colours continue to leap,
sprout forth from the cracks.
The openings to reach windward towards,
open, cloud-dappled light.
grow in your choices,
words, stories, and dreams.
A young bud springs forth overnight,
waiting for that first light.
Blue in its wayfarer’s silk haze,
to slow, pause to open,
fresh to the new day.
Colours radiant, bending in the harsh soft light.
Rising to kiss, the morning sun’s whisper-thin wind.
Dew vapours, walking on a breeze’s waking slumber.
Moments, to waiting conversations blend.
No silence, just seasons to sleep at sea.
To wake, to live life.
free as the breeze…
beauty, rich, rare heart with soul…