THE LAMP OF EXHILARATION

10

i

Spring, your grass is longer until June
I can sense Summer further than the Birds
An unobtrusive transformation
Of flowers, gradual perfection of Grace
Regardless of our minor tragedies

ii

Nature, this pensive custom of
Cycles outlasts all change
She carries enlarging loneliness
Making the youth hunt friendship
The heat beneath burning Noons
Makes us sweat for tomorrow

iii

Nature drips sunsets and drapes
The future, across a vistas of Yearning
Passion as the seed the Wizard Sun
Creatures following the mirth
Of the hand of evolution, the eyes

iv

Of the erotic energy of time
Dare I say I felt the lip of the flamingo
The wind does not require grass
But prefers it as I do, the colors
All end in green, and the wisdom
Of the light that never asks questions.

4 thoughts on “THE LAMP OF EXHILARATION

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