Sometimes, you hear the song of the Earth,
the whisper of the sun in her loving caress of your hopes
the sighing mountain and the giggle of the ocean between the roars..
The day opens her eyes
you feel your dreams shape
her forms into hopes
like soft silk down the spine
a prayer escapes your spirit.
Caress the stars,
your hopes enwrapped
like a love-struck maid
shapes the morrow and horizon
bless the day with love seeds
tomorrow’s fruit quickens
fruits of happy harvest..
Dreams flow rich,
from the running brook,
man stands to watch,
the colouring book,
of His grace.
My soul longs to feel on me, the grace,
I sigh and lay in the soft grass of home.
The bells through the flashing lights
tell me that harvests are almost done.
Will Father find enough for the treasure?
I hope for you that
the harvest though not very pure
will ring the bells.
Persuasion
The sun can be persuaded
to have roses in the desert.
The dew at dawn is as
soft as the outer reaches of the sun.
the hand that holds the Sword is loving and firm.
The scalpel of the surgeon is sharp
to remove the errant tissue.
It is mercy.
The eagle lives on the crag
as the dove descends
and the sea breaks out on victory song.
The unicorn sniffs the golden air
for the sun is out again.
